The Island of Doctor Moreau by H. G. Wells (fantasy books to read .txt) 📕

At that I completely lost my head with fear, and began running

along the sand. Forthwith there came the swift patter of soft

feet in pursuit. I gave a wild cry, and redoubled my pace.

Some dim, black things about three or four times the size of rabbits

went running or hopping up from the beach towards the bushes as

I passed.

So long as I live, I shall remember the terror of that chase.

I ran near the water’s edge, and heard every now and then the splash

of the feet that gained upon me. Far away, hopelessly far,

was the yellow light. All the night about us was black and still.

Splash, splash, came the pursuing feet, nearer and nearer.

I felt my breath going, for I was quite out of training; it whooped

as I drew it, and I felt a pain like a knife at my side. I perceived

the Thing would come up with me long before I reached the enclosure,

and, desperate and sobbing for my breath, I wheeled round upon it

and struck at it as it came up to me,—struck with all my strength.

The stone came out of the sling of the handkerchief as I did so.

As I turned, the Thing, which had been running on all-fours,

rose to its feet, and the missile fell fair on its left temple.

The skull rang loud, and the animal-man blundered into me,

thrust me back with its hands, and went staggering past me to fall

headlong upon the sand with its face in the water; and there it lay

still.

I could not bring myself to approach that black heap. I left

it there, with the water rippling round it, under the still stars,

and giving it a wide berth pursued my way towards the yellow glow

of the house; and presently, with a positive effect of relief,

came the pitiful moaning of the puma, the sound that had

originally driven me out to explore this mysterious island.

At that, though I was faint and horribly fatigued, I gathered

together all my strength, and began running again towards the light.

I thought I heard a voice calling me.

X. THE CRYING OF THE MAN.

AS I drew near the house I saw that the light shone from

the open door of my room; and then I heard coming from out

of the darkness at the side of that orange oblong of light,

the voice of Montgomery shouting, “Prendick!” I continued running.

Presently I heard him again. I replied by a feeble “Hullo!”

and in another moment had staggered up to him.

“Where have you been?” said he, holding me at arm’s length,

so that the light from the door fell on my face. “We have both

been so busy that we forgot you until about half an hour ago.”

He led me into the room and set me down in the deck chair.

For awhile I was blinded by the light. “We did not think you would start

to explore this island of ours without telling us,” he said; and then,

“I was afraid—But—what—Hullo!”

My last remaining strength slipped from me, and my head fell forward

on my chest. I think he found a certain satisfaction in giving

me brandy.

“For God’s sake,” said I, “fasten that door.”

“You’ve been meeting some of our curiosities, eh?” said he.

He locked the door and turned to me again. He asked me no questions,

but gave me some more brandy and water and pressed me to eat.

I was in a state of collapse. He said something vague about his

forgetting to warn me, and asked me briefly when I left the house

and what I had seen.

I answered him as briefly, in fragmentary sentences. “Tell me

what it all means,” said I, in a state bordering on hysterics.

“It’s nothing so very dreadful,” said he. “But I think you

have had about enough for one day.” The puma suddenly gave

a sharp yell of pain. At that he swore under his breath.

“I’m damned,” said he, “if this place is not as bad as Gower Street,

with its cats.”

“Montgomery,” said I, “what was that thing that came after me?

Was it a beast or was it a man?”

“If you don’t sleep to-night,” he said, “you’ll be off your

head to-morrow.”

I stood up in front of him. “What was that thing that came after me?”

I asked.

He looked me squarely in the eyes, and twisted his mouth askew.

His eyes, which had seemed animated a minute before, went dull.

“From your account,” said he, “I’m thinking it was a bogle.”

I felt a gust of intense irritation, which passed as quickly as it came.

I flung myself into the chair again, and pressed my hands on my forehead.

The puma began once more.

Montgomery came round behind me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Look here, Prendick,” he said, “I had no business to let

you drift out into this silly island of ours. But it’s not

so bad as you feel, man. Your nerves are worked to rags.

Let me give you something that will make you sleep. That—will keep

on for hours yet. You must simply get to sleep, or I won’t answer

for it.”

I did not reply. I bowed forward, and covered my face with my hands.

Presently he returned with a small measure containing a dark liquid.

This he gave me. I took it unresistingly, and he helped me into

the hammock.

When I awoke, it was broad day. For a little while I lay flat,

staring at the roof above me. The rafters, I observed, were made

out of the timbers of a ship. Then I turned my head, and saw a meal

prepared for me on the table. I perceived that I was hungry,

and prepared to clamber out of the hammock, which, very politely

anticipating my intention, twisted round and deposited me upon

all-fours on the floor.

I got up and sat down before the food. I had a heavy feeling

in my head, and only the vaguest memory at first of the things

that had happened over night. The morning breeze blew very

pleasantly through the unglazed window, and that and the food

contributed to the sense of animal comfort which I experienced.

Presently the door behind me—the door inward towards the yard

of the enclosure—opened. I turned and saw Montgomery’s face.

“All right,” said he. “I’m frightfully busy.” And he shut the door.

Afterwards I discovered that he forgot to re-lock it.

Then I recalled the expression of his face the previous night,

and with that the memory of all I had experienced reconstructed

itself before me. Even as that fear came back to me came a cry

from within; but this time it was not the cry of a puma.

I put down the mouthful that hesitated upon my lips, and listened.

Silence, save for the whisper of the morning breeze. I began to think my

ears had deceived me.

After a long pause I resumed my meal, but with my ears still vigilant.

Presently I heard something else, very faint and low.

I sat as if frozen in my attitude. Though it was faint and low,

it moved me more profoundly than all that I had hitherto heard of

the abominations behind the wall. There was no mistake this time in

the quality of the dim, broken sounds; no doubt at all of their source.

For it was groaning, broken by sobs and gasps of anguish.

It was no brute this time; it was a human being in torment!

As I realised this I rose, and in three steps had crossed the room,

seized the handle of the door into the yard, and flung it open

before me.

“Prendick, man! Stop!” cried Montgomery, intervening.

A startled deerhound yelped and snarled. There was blood, I saw,

in the sink,—brown, and some scarlet—and I smelt the peculiar

smell of carbolic acid. Then through an open doorway beyond,

in the dim light of the shadow, I saw something bound painfully

upon a framework, scarred, red, and bandaged; and then blotting

this out appeared the face of old Moreau, white and terrible.

In a moment he had gripped me by the shoulder with a hand that was

smeared red, had twisted me off my feet, and flung me headlong back

into my own room. He lifted me as though I was a little child.

I fell at full length upon the floor, and the door slammed

and shut out the passionate intensity of his face.

Then I heard the key turn in the lock, and Montgomery’s voice

in expostulation.

“Ruin the work of a lifetime,” I heard Moreau say.

“He does not understand,” said Montgomery. and other things

that were inaudible.

“I can’t spare the time yet,” said Moreau.

The rest I did not hear. I picked myself up and stood trembling,

my mind a chaos of the most horrible misgivings. Could it be possible,

I thought, that such a thing as the vivisection of men was carried

on here? The question shot like lightning across a tumultuous sky;

and suddenly the clouded horror of my mind condensed into a vivid

realisation of my own danger.

XI. THE HUNTING OF THE MAN.

IT came before my mind with an unreasonable hope of escape that

the outer door of my room was still open to me. I was convinced now,

absolutely assured, that Moreau had been vivisecting a human being.

All the time since I had heard his name, I had been trying to link

in my mind in some way the grotesque animalism of the islanders

with his abominations; and now I thought I saw it all.

The memory of his work on the transfusion of blood recurred to me.

These creatures I had seen were the victims of some hideous experiment.

These sickening scoundrels had merely intended to keep me back,

to fool me with their display of confidence, and presently to fall

upon me with a fate more horrible than death,—with torture;

and after torture the most hideous degradation it is possible

to conceive,—to send me off a lost soul, a beast, to the rest of their

Comus rout.

I looked round for some weapon. Nothing. Then with an inspiration I

turned over the deck chair, put my foot on the side of it, and tore

away the side rail. It happened that a nail came away with the wood,

and projecting, gave a touch of danger to an otherwise petty weapon.

I heard a step outside, and incontinently flung open the door and found

Montgomery within a yard of it. He meant to lock the outer door!

I raised this nailed stick of mine and cut at his face;

but he sprang back. I hesitated a moment, then turned and fled,

round the corner of the house. “Prendick, man!” I heard his

astonished cry, “don’t be a silly ass, man!”

Another minute, thought I, and he would have had me locked in,

and as ready as a hospital rabbit for my fate. He emerged behind

the corner, for I heard him shout, “Prendick!” Then he began to run

after me, shouting things as he ran. This time running blindly,

I went northeastward in a direction at right angles to my

previous expedition. Once, as I went running headlong up the beach,

I glanced over my shoulder and saw his attendant with him.

I ran furiously up the slope, over it, then turning eastward along

a rocky valley fringed on either side with jungle I ran for perhaps

a mile altogether, my chest straining,