Острів доктора Моро
The Crying of the Man.
Silence,saveforthewhisperofthemorningbreeze.Ibegantothinkmyearshaddeceivedme.
AfteralongpauseIresumedmymeal,butwithmyearsstillvigilant.PresentlyIheardsomethingelse,veryfaintandlow.Isatasiffrozeninmyattitude.Thoughitwasfaintandlow,itmovedmemoreprofoundlythanallthatIhadhithertoheardoftheabominationsbehindthewall.Therewasnomistakethistimeinthequalityofthedim,brokensounds;nodoubtatalloftheirsource.Foritwasgroaning,brokenbysobsandgaspsofanguish.Itwasnobrutethistime;itwasahumanbeingintorment!
AsIrealisedthisIrose,andinthreestepshadcrossedtheroom,seizedthehandleofthedoorintotheyard,andflungitopenbeforeme.
"Prendick,man!Stop!"criedMontgomery,intervening.
Astartleddeerhoundyelpedandsnarled.Therewasblood,Isaw,inthesink,—brown,andsomescarlet—andIsmeltthepeculiarsmellofcarbolicacid.Thenthroughanopendoorwaybeyond,inthedimlightoftheshadow,Isawsomethingboundpainfullyuponaframework,scarred,red,andbandaged;andthenblottingthisoutappearedthefaceofoldMoreau,whiteandterrible.Inamomenthehadgrippedmebytheshoulderwithahandthatwassmearedred,hadtwistedmeoffmyfeet,andflungmeheadlongbackintomyownroom.HeliftedmeasthoughIwasalittlechild.Ifellatfulllengthuponthefloor,andthedoorslammedandshutoutthepassionateintensityofhisface
