<h2><SPAN name="chap10"></SPAN>X.<br/> THE CRYING OF THE MAN.</h2>
<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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