ble. I perceived that I was hungry,
and prepared to clamber out of the hammock, which, very politely
anticipating my intention, twisted round and deposited me upon
all-fours on the floor.

I got up and sat down before the food. I had a heavy feeling
in my head, and only the vaguest memory at first of the things
that had happened over night. The morning breeze blew very
pleasantly through the unglazed window, and that and the food
contributed to the sense of animal comfort which I experienced.
Presently the door behind me--the door inward towards the yard
of the enclosure--opened. I turned and saw Montgomery's face.

"All right," said he. "I'm frightfully busy." And he shut the door.

Afterwards I discovered that he forgot to re-lock it.
Then I recalled the expression of his face the previous night,
and with that the memory of all I had experienced reconstructed
itself before me. Even as that fear came back to me came a cry
from within; but this time it was not the cry of a puma.
I put down the mouthful that hesitated upon my lips, and listened.
Silence, save for the whisper of the morning breeze. I began to think my
ears had deceived me.

After a long pause I resumed my meal, but with my ears still vigilant.
Presently I heard something else, very faint and low.
I sat as if frozen in my attitude. Though it was faint and low,
it moved me more profoundly than all that I had hitherto heard of
the abominations behind the wall. There was no mistake this time in
the quality of the dim, broken sounds; no doubt at all of their source.
For it was groaning, broken by sobs and gasps of anguish.
It was no brute this time; it was a human being in torment!

As I realised this I rose, and in three steps had crossed the room,
seized the handle of the door into the yard, and flung it open
before me.

"Prendick, man! Stop!" cried Montgomery, intervening.

A startled deerhound yelped and snarled. There was blood, I saw,
in the sink,--brown, and some scarlet--and I smelt the peculiar
smell of carbolic acid. Then through an open doorway beyond,
in the dim light of the shadow, I saw something bound painfully
upon a framework, scarred, red, and bandaged; and then blotting
this out appeared the face of old Moreau, white and terrible.
In a moment he had gripped me by the shoulder with a hand that was
smeared red, had twisted me off my feet, and flung me headlong back
into my own room. He lifted me as though I was a little