in my arm had already given way to a burning pain
when Montgomery reappeared. His face was rather pale, and he showed
more of his lower gums than ever.

"I can neither see nor hear anything of him," he said.
"I've been thinking he may want my help." He stared at me with
his expressionless eyes. "That was a strong brute," he said.
"It simply wrenched its fetter out of the wall." He went to the window,
then to the door, and there turned to me. "I shall go after him,"
he said. "There's another revolver I can leave with you.
To tell you the truth, I feel anxious somehow."

He obtained the weapon, and put it ready to my hand on the table;
then went out, leaving a restless contagion in the air.
I did not sit long after he left, but took the revolver in hand and went
to the doorway.

The morning was as still as death. Not a whisper of wind was stirring;
the sea was like polished glass, the sky empty, the beach desolate.
In my half-excited, half-feverish state, this stillness of things
oppressed me. I tried to whistle, and the tune died away.
I swore again,--the second time that morning. Then I went to the corner
of the enclosure and stared inland at the green bush that had
swallowed up Moreau and Montgomery. When would they return, and how?
Then far away up the beach a little grey Beast Man appeared,
ran down to the water's edge and began splashing about.
I strolled back to the doorway, then to the corner again,
and so began pacing to and fro like a sentinel upon duty.
Once I was arrested by the distant voice of Montgomery bawling,
"Coo-ee--Moreau!" My arm became less painful, but very hot.
I got feverish and thirsty. My shadow grew shorter.
I watched the distant figure until it went away again. Would Moreau
and Montgomery never return? Three sea-birds began fighting for some
stranded treasure.

Then from far away behind the enclosure I heard a pistol-shot. A
long silence, and then came another. Then a yelling cry nearer,
and another dismal gap of silence. My unfortunate imagination
set to work to torment me. Then suddenly a shot close by.
I went to the corner, startled, and saw Montgomery,--his face scarlet,
his hair disordered, and the knee of his trousers torn.
His face expressed profound consternation. Behind him slouched
the Beast Man, M'ling, and round M'ling's jaws were some queer
dark stains.

"Has he come?" said Montgomery.

"Moreau?" said I. "No."

"My God!" The man was panting, almost