The_island_of_Dr._Moreau/chapters/The Crying of the man.tex

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
sat 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. \emph{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.