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- Остров доктора Моро
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I
scrambled
out
at
last
on
the
westward
bank
,
and
with
my
heart
beating
loudly
in
my
ears
,
crept
into
a
tangle
of
ferns
to
await
the
issue
.
I
heard
the
dog
(
there
was
only
one
)
draw
nearer
,
and
yelp
when
it
came
to
the
thorns
.
Then
I
heard
no
more
,
and
presently
began
to
think
I
had
escaped
.
The
minutes
passed
;
the
silence
lengthened
out
,
and
at
last
after
an
hour
of
security
my
courage
began
to
return
to
me
.
By
this
time
I
was
no
longer
very
much
terrified
or
very
miserable
.
I
had
,
as
it
were
,
passed
the
limit
of
terror
and
despair
.
I
felt
now
that
my
life
was
practically
lost
,
and
that
persuasion
made
me
capable
of
daring
anything
.
I
had
even
a
certain
wish
to
encounter
Moreau
face
to
face
;
and
as
I
had
waded
into
the
water
,
I
remembered
that
if
I
were
too
hard
pressed
at
least
one
path
of
escape
from
torment
still
lay
open
to
me
,
--
they
could
not
very
well
prevent
my
drowning
myself
.
I
had
half
a
mind
to
drown
myself
then
;
but
an
odd
wish
to
see
the
whole
adventure
out
,
a
queer
,
impersonal
,
spectacular
interest
in
myself
,
restrained
me
.
I
stretched
my
limbs
,
sore
and
painful
from
the
pricks
of
the
spiny
plants
,
and
stared
around
me
at
the
trees
;
and
,
so
suddenly
that
it
seemed
to
jump
out
of
the
green
tracery
about
it
,
my
eyes
lit
upon
a
black
face
watching
me
.
I
saw
that
it
was
the
simian
creature
who
had
met
the
launch
upon
the
beach
.
He
was
clinging
to
the
oblique
stem
of
a
palm-tree
.
I
gripped
my
stick
,
and
stood
up
facing
him
.
He
began
chattering
.
"
You
,
you
,
you
,
"
was
all
I
could
distinguish
at
first
.
Suddenly
he
dropped
from
the
tree
,
and
in
another
moment
was
holding
the
fronds
apart
and
staring
curiously
at
me
.
I
did
not
feel
the
same
repugnance
towards
this
creature
which
I
had
experienced
in
my
encounters
with
the
other
Beast
Men
.
"
You
,
he
said
,
"
in
the
boat
.
"
He
was
a
man
,
then
,
--
at
least
as
much
of
a
man
as
Montgomery
's
attendant
,
--
for
he
could
talk
.
"
Yes
,
"
I
said
,
"
I
came
in
the
boat
.
From
the
ship
.
"
"
Oh
!
"
he
said
,
and
his
bright
,
restless
eyes
travelled
over
me
,
to
my
hands
,
to
the
stick
I
carried
,
to
my
feet
,
to
the
tattered
places
in
my
coat
,
and
the
cuts
and
scratches
I
had
received
from
the
thorns
.
He
seemed
puzzled
at
something
.
His
eyes
came
back
to
my
hands
.
He
held
his
own
hand
out
and
counted
his
digits
slowly
,
"
One
,
two
,
three
,
four
,
five
--
eigh
?
"
I
did
not
grasp
his
meaning
then
;
afterwards
I
was
to
find
that
a
great
proportion
of
these
Beast
People
had
malformed
hands
,
lacking
sometimes
even
three
digits
.
But
guessing
this
was
in
some
way
a
greeting
,
I
did
the
same
thing
by
way
of
reply
.
He
grinned
with
immense
satisfaction
.
Then
his
swift
roving
glance
went
round
again
;
he
made
a
swift
movement
--
and
vanished
.
The
fern
fronds
he
had
stood
between
came
swishing
together
,
I
pushed
out
of
the
brake
after
him
,
and
was
astonished
to
find
him
swinging
cheerfully
by
one
lank
arm
from
a
rope
of
creeper
that
looped
down
from
the
foliage
overhead
.
His
back
was
to
me
.
"
Hullo
!
"
said
I.
He
came
down
with
a
twisting
jump
,
and
stood
facing
me
.