<h2><SPAN name="chap18"></SPAN>XVIII.<br/> THE FINDING OF MOREAU.</h2>
<p>When I saw Montgomery swallow a third dose of brandy, I took it upon myself to
interfere. He was already more than half fuddled. I told him that some serious
thing must have happened to Moreau by this time, or he would have returned
before this, and that it behoved us to ascertain what that catastrophe was.
Montgomery raised some feeble objections, and at last agreed. We had some food,
and then all three of us started.</p>
<p>It is possibly due to the tension of my mind, at the time, but even now that
start into the hot stillness of the tropical afternoon is a singularly vivid
impression. M’ling went first, his shoulder hunched, his strange black
head moving with quick starts as he peered first on this side of the way and
then on that. He was unarmed; his axe he had dropped when he encountered the
Swine-man. Teeth were <i>his</i> weapons, when it came to fighting. Montgomery
followed with stumbling footsteps, his hands in his pockets, his face downcast;
he was in a state of muddled sullenness with me on account of the brandy. My
left arm was in a sling (it was lucky it was my left), and I carried my
revolver in my right. Soon we traced a narrow path through the wild luxuriance
of the island, going northwestward; and presently M’ling stopped, and
became rigid with watchfulness. Montgomery almost staggered into him, and then
stopped too. Then, listening intently, we heard coming through the trees the
sound of voices and footsteps approaching us.</p>
<p>“He is dead,” said a deep, vibrating voice.</p>
<p>“He is not dead; he is not dead,” jabbered another.</p>
<p>“We saw, we saw,” said several voices.</p>
<p>“<i>Hul</i>-lo!” suddenly shouted Montgomery, “Hullo,
there!”</p>
<p>“Confound you!” said I, and gripped my pistol.</p>
<p>There was a silence, then a crashing among the interlacing vegetation, first
here, then there, and then half-a-dozen faces appeared,—strange faces,
lit by a strange light. M’ling made a growling noise in his throat. I
recognised the Ape-man: I had indeed already identified his voice, and two of
the white-swathed brown-featured creatures I had seen in Montgomery’s
boat. With these were the two dappled brutes and that grey, horribly crooked
creature who said the Law, with grey hair streaming down its cheeks, heavy grey
eyebrows, and grey locks pouring off from a central parting upon its sloping
forehead,—a heavy, faceless thing, with strange red eyes, looking at us
curiously from amidst the green.</p>
<p>For a space no one spoke. Then Montgomery hiccoughed, “Who—said he
was dead?”</p>
<p>The Monkey-man looked guiltily at the hairy-grey Thing. “He is
dead,” said this monster. “They saw.”</p>
<p>There was nothing threatening about this detachment, at any rate. They seemed
awestricken and puzzled.</p>
<p>“Where is he?” said Montgomery.</p>
<p>“Beyond,” and the grey creature pointed.</p>
<p>“Is there a Law now?” asked the Monkey-man. “Is it still to
be this and that? Is he dead indeed?”</p>
<p>“Is there a Law?” repeated the man in white. “Is there a Law,
thou Other with the Whip?”</p>
<p>“He is dead,” said the hairy-grey Thing. And they all stood
watching us.</p>
<p>“Prendick,” said Montgomery, turning his dull eyes to me.
“He’s dead, evidently.”</p>
<p>I had been standing behind him during this colloquy. I began to see how things
lay with them. I suddenly stepped in front of Montgomery and lifted up my
voice:—“Children of the Law,” I said, “he is <i>not</i>
dead!” M’ling turned his sharp eyes on me. “He has changed
his shape; he has changed his body,” I went on. “For a time you
will not see him. He is—there,” I pointed upward, “where he
can watch you. You cannot see him, but he can see you. Fear the Law!”</p>
<p>I looked at them squarely. They flinched.</p>
<p>“He is great, he is good,” said the Ape-man, peering fearfully
upward among the dense trees.</p>
<p>“And the other Thing?” I demanded.</p>
<p>“The Thing that bled, and ran screaming and sobbing,—that is dead
too,” said the grey Thing, still regarding me.</p>
<p>“That’s well,” grunted Montgomery.</p>
<p>“The Other with the Whip—” began the grey Thing.</p>
<p>“Well?” said I.</p>
<p>“Said he was dead.”</p>
<p>But Montgomery was still sober enough to understand my motive in denying
Moreau’s death. “He is not dead,” he said slowly, “not
dead at all. No more dead than I am.”</p>
<p>“Some,” said I, “have broken the Law: they will die. Some
have died. Show us now where his old body lies,—the body he cast away
because he had no more need of it.”</p>
<p>“It is this way, Man who walked in the Sea,” said the grey Thing.</p>
<p>And with these six creatures guiding us, we went through the tumult of ferns
and creepers and tree-stems towards the northwest. Then came a yelling, a
crashing among the branches, and a little pink homunculus rushed by us
shrieking. Immediately after appeared a monster in headlong pursuit,
blood-bedabbled, who was amongst us almost before he could stop his career. The
grey Thing leapt aside. M’ling, with a snarl, flew at it, and was struck
aside. Montgomery fired and missed, bowed his head, threw up his arm, and
turned to run. I fired, and the Thing still came on; fired again, point-blank,
into its ugly face. I saw its features vanish in a flash: its face was driven
in. Yet it passed me, gripped Montgomery, and holding him, fell headlong beside
him and pulled him sprawling upon itself in its death-agony.</p>
<p>I found myself alone with M’ling, the dead brute, and the prostrate man.
Montgomery raised himself slowly and stared in a muddled way at the shattered
Beast Man beside him. It more than half sobered him. He scrambled to his feet.
Then I saw the grey Thing returning cautiously through the trees.</p>
<p>“See,” said I, pointing to the dead brute, “is the Law not
alive? This came of breaking the Law.”</p>
<p>He peered at the body. “He sends the Fire that kills,” said he, in
his deep voice, repeating part of the Ritual. The others gathered round and
stared for a space.</p>
<p>At last we drew near the westward extremity of the island. We came upon the
gnawed and mutilated body of the puma, its shoulder-bone smashed by a bullet,
and perhaps twenty yards farther found at last what we sought. Moreau lay face
downward in a trampled space in a canebrake. One hand was almost severed at the
wrist and his silvery hair was dabbled in blood. His head had been battered in
by the fetters of the puma. The broken canes beneath him were smeared with
blood. His revolver we could not find. Montgomery turned him over. Resting at
intervals, and with the help of the seven Beast People (for he was a heavy
man), we carried Moreau back to the enclosure. The night was darkling. Twice we
heard unseen creatures howling and shrieking past our little band, and once the
little pink sloth-creature appeared and stared at us, and vanished again. But
we were not attacked again. At the gates of the enclosure our company of Beast
People left us, M’ling going with the rest. We locked ourselves in, and
then took Moreau’s mangled body into the yard and laid it upon a pile of
brushwood. Then we went into the laboratory and put an end to all we found
living there.</p>
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