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The Greatest Science Fiction Novels & Stories by H. G. Wells


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      `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 about you until about half an hour ago.

      He led me into the room and sat me down in the deck chair. For a while 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!’

      For 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 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 been 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 tonight,’ he said, `you’ll be off your head tomorrow.

      I stood up in front of him. `What was that thing that came after me?’ I asked.

      He looked at 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 that passed as quickly as it came. I flung myself into the chair and pressed my hands on my forehead. The puma began again.

      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 turned 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 overnight. The morning breeze blew very pleasantly through the unglazed window, and that and the food contributed to the sense of animal comfort 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 returned to me came a cry from within. But this time it was not the cry of the 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 ear 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!

      And as I realised this I rose, and in three steps had cross 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 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 the vivisection of men be possible? The question shot like lightning across a tumultuous sky. And suddenly the clouded horror of my mind condensed into a vivid realisation of my danger.

      CHAPTER 11

       THE HUNTING OF THE MAN

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      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 works in 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 was 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, 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 turned eastward along a rocky valley, fringed on either side with jungle. I ran perhaps a mile altogether, my chest straining, my heart beating in my ears, and then, hearing nothing of Montgomery or his man