Остров доктора Моро
The Reversion of the Beast Folk.
ThenIfollowedandstoodup,almostintheexactspotwhereIhadbeenwhenIhadheardMoreauandhisstaghoundpursuingme.Butnowitwasnight,andallthemiasmaticravineaboutmewasblack;andbeyond,insteadofagreen,sunlitslope,Isawaredfire,beforewhichhunched,grotesquefiguresmovedtoandfro.Fartherwerethethicktrees,abankofdarkness,fringedabovewiththeblacklaceoftheupperbranches.Themoonwasjustridingupontheedgeoftheravine,andlikeabaracrossitsfacedrovethespireofvapourthatwasforeverstreamingfromthefumarolesoftheisland.
"Walkbyme,"saidI,nervingmyself;andsidebysidewewalkeddownthenarrowway,takinglittleheedofthedimThingsthatpeeredatusoutofthehuts.
Noneaboutthefireattemptedtosaluteme.Mostofthemdisregardedme,ostentatiously.IlookedroundfortheHyena-swine,buthewasnotthere.Altogether,perhapstwentyoftheBeastFolksquatted,staringintothefireortalkingtooneanother.
"Heisdead,heisdead!theMasterisdead!"saidthevoiceoftheApe-mantotherightofme."TheHouseofPain—thereisnoHouseofPain!"
"Heisnotdead,"saidI,inaloudvoice."Evennowhewatchesus!"
Thisstartledthem.Twentypairsofeyesregardedme.
"TheHouseofPainisgone,"saidI."Itwillcomeagain.TheMasteryoucannotsee;yetevennowhelistensamongyou."
"True,true!"saidtheDog-man.
