Острів доктора Моро
A Catastrophe.
"Icanneitherseenorhearanythingofhim,"hesaid."I’vebeenthinkinghemaywantmyhelp."Hestaredatmewithhisexpressionlesseyes."Thatwasastrongbrute,"hesaid."Itsimplywrencheditsfetteroutofthewall."Hewenttothewindow,thentothedoor,andthereturnedtome."Ishallgoafterhim,"hesaid."There’sanotherrevolverIcanleavewithyou.Totellyouthetruth,Ifeelanxioussomehow."
Heobtainedtheweapon,andputitreadytomyhandonthetable;thenwentout,leavingarestlesscontagionintheair.Ididnotsitlongafterheleft,buttooktherevolverinhandandwenttothedoorway.
Themorningwasasstillasdeath.Notawhisperofwindwasstirring;theseawaslikepolishedglass,theskyempty,thebeachdesolate.Inmyhalf-excited,half-feverishstate,thisstillnessofthingsoppressedme.Itriedtowhistle,andthetunediedaway.Isworeagain,—thesecondtimethatmorning.ThenIwenttothecorneroftheenclosureandstaredinlandatthegreenbushthathadswallowedupMoreauandMontgomery.Whenwouldtheyreturn,andhow?ThenfarawayupthebeachalittlegreyBeastManappeared,randowntothewater’sedgeandbegansplashingabout.Istrolledbacktothedoorway,thentothecorneragain,andsobeganpacingtoandfrolikeasentineluponduty.OnceIwasarrestedbythedistantvoiceofMontgomerybawling,"Coo-ee—Moreau!"Myarmbecamelesspainful,butveryhot.Igotfeverishandthirsty.