Острів доктора Моро
The Thing in the Forest.
Iturnedsuddenly,andstaredattheuncertaintreesbehindme.Oneblackshadowseemedtoleapintoanother.Ilistened,rigid,andheardnothingbutthecreepofthebloodinmyears.Ithoughtthatmynerveswereunstrung,andthatmyimaginationwastrickingme,andturnedresolutelytowardsthesoundoftheseaagain.
Inaminuteorsothetreesgrewthinner,andIemergeduponabare,lowheadlandrunningoutintothesombrewater.Thenightwascalmandclear,andthereflectionofthegrowingmultitudeofthestarsshiveredinthetranquilheavingofthesea.Somewayout,thewashuponanirregularbandofreefshonewithapallidlightofitsown.WestwardIsawthezodiacallightminglingwiththeyellowbrillianceoftheeveningstar.Thecoastfellawayfrommetotheeast,andwestwarditwashiddenbytheshoulderofthecape.ThenIrecalledthefactthatMoreau’sbeachlaytothewest.
Atwigsnappedbehindme,andtherewasarustle.Iturned,andstoodfacingthedarktrees.Icouldseenothing—orelseIcouldseetoomuch.Everydarkforminthedimnesshaditsominousquality,itspeculiarsuggestionofalertwatchfulness.SoIstoodforperhapsaminute,andthen,withaneyetothetreesstill,turnedwestwardtocrosstheheadland;andasImoved,oneamongthelurkingshadowsmovedtofollowme.
Myheartbeatquickly.Presentlythebroadsweepofabaytothewestwardbecamevisible,andIhaltedagain.Thenoiselessshadowhaltedadozenyardsfromme.