<h3><SPAN name="ch10">X. THE CRYING OF THE MAN.</SPAN></h3>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“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!”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“For God's sake,” said I, “fasten that door.”</p>
<p>“You've been meeting some of our curiosities, eh?” said he.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>I answered him as briefly, in fragmentary sentences. “Tell me
what it all means,” said I, in a state bordering on hysterics.</p>
<p>“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.”</p>
<p>“Montgomery,” said I, “what was that thing that came after me?
Was it a beast or was it a man?”</p>
<p>“If you don't sleep to-night,” he said, “you'll be off your
head to-morrow.”</p>
<p>I stood up in front of him. “What was that thing that came after me?”
I asked.</p>
<p>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.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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. <i>That</i>—will keep
on for hours yet. You must simply get to sleep, or I won't answer
for it.”</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“All right,” said he. “I'm frightfully busy.” And he shut the door.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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!</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“Prendick, man! Stop!” cried Montgomery, intervening.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>“Ruin the work of a lifetime,” I heard Moreau say.</p>
<p>“He does not understand,” said Montgomery. and other things
that were inaudible.</p>
<p>“I can't spare the time yet,” said Moreau.</p>
<p>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.</p>
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