"They are THINGS," interrupted von Horn."They are not human--they are not even beast.They are terrible, soulless creatures.You have no right to permit them to live longer than to substantiate your theory.None but us knows of their existence--no other need know of their passing.It must be done.They are a constant and growing menace to us all, but most of all to your daughter."A cunning look came into the professor's eyes.
"I understand," he said."The precedent once established, all must perish by its edict--even those which may not be grotesque or bestial--even this perfect one," and he touched again the vat, "and thus you would rid yourself of rival suitors.
But no!" he went on in a high, trembling voice."I shall not be led to thus compromise myself, and be thwarted in my cherished plan.
Be this one what he may he shall wed my daughter!"The man had raised himself upon his toes as he reached his climax--his clenched hand was high above his head--his voice fairly thundered out the final sentence, and with the last word he brought his fist down upon the vat before him.In his eyes blazed the light of unchained madness.
Von Horn was a brave man, but he shuddered at the maniacal ferocity of the older man, and shrank back.
The futility of argument was apparent, and he turned and left the workshop.
Sing Lee was late that night.In fact he did not return from his fruitless quest for gulls until well after dark, nor would he vouchsafe any explanation of the consequent lateness of supper.Nor could he be found shortly after the evening meal when Virginia sought him.
Not until the camp was wrapped in the quiet of slumber did Sing Lee return--stealthy and mysterious--to creep under cover of a moonless night to the door of the workshop.How he gained entrance only Sing Lee knows, but a moment later there was a muffled crash of broken glass within the laboratory, and the Chinaman had slipped out, relocked the door, and scurried to his nearby shack.But there was no occasion for his haste--no other ear than his had heard the sound within the workshop.
It was almost nine the following morning before Professor Maxon and von Horn entered the laboratory.
Scarcely had the older man passed the doorway than he drew up his hands in horrified consternation.Vat Number Thirteen lay dashed to the floor--the glass cover was broken to a million pieces--a sticky, brownish substance covered the matting.
Professor Maxon hid his face in his hands.
"God!" he cried."It is all ruined.Three more days would have--""Look!" cried von Horn."It is not too soon."Professor Maxon mustered courage to raise his eyes from his hands, and there he beheld, seated in a far corner of the room a handsome giant, physically perfect.The creature looked about him in a dazed, uncomprehending manner.A great question was writ large upon his intelligent countenance.Professor Maxon stepped forward and took him by the hand.
"Come," he said, and led him toward a smaller room off the main workshop.The giant followed docilely, his eyes roving about the room--the pitiful questioning still upon his handsome features.Von Horn turned toward the campong.
Virginia, deserted by all, even the faithful Sing, who, cheated of his sport on the preceding day, had again gone to the beach to snare gulls, became restless of the enforced idleness and solitude.For a time she wandered about the little compound which had been reserved for the whites, but tiring of this she decided to extend her stroll beyond the palisade, a thing which she had never before done unless accompanied by von Horn--a thing both he and her father had cautioned her against.
"What danger can there be?" she thought."We know that the island is uninhabited by others than ourselves, and that there are no dangerous beasts.And, anyway, there is no one now who seems to care what becomes of me, unless--unless--I wonder if he does care.I wonder if I care whether or not he cares.Oh, dear, I wish I knew,"and as she soliloquized she wandered past the little clearing and into the jungle that lay behind the campong.
As von Horn and Professor Maxon talked together in the laboratory before the upsetting of vat Number Thirteen, a grotesque and horrible creature had slunk from the low shed at the opposite side of the campong until it had crouched at the flimsy door of the building in which the two men conversed.For a while it listened intently, but when von Horn urged the necessity for dispatching certain "terrible, soulless creatures" an expression of intermingled fear and hatred convulsed the hideous features, and like a great grizzly it turned and lumbered awkwardly across the campong toward the easterly, or back wall of the enclosure.
Here it leaped futilely a half dozen times for the top of the palisade, and then trembling and chattering in rage it ran back and forth along the base of the obstacle, just as a wild beast in captivity paces angrily before the bars of its cage.
Finally it paused to look once more at the senseless wood that barred its escape, as though measuring the distance to the top.Then the eyes roamed about the campong to rest at last upon the slanting roof of the thatched shed which was its shelter.Presently a slow idea was born in the poor, malformed brain.
The creature approached the shed.He could just reach the saplings that formed the frame work of the roof.
Like a huge sloth he drew himself to the roof of the structure.From here he could see beyond the palisade, and the wild ******* of the jungle called to him.He did not know what it was but in its leafy wall he perceived many breaks and openings that offered concealment from the creatures who were plotting to take his life.
Yet the wall was not fully six feet from him, and the top of it at least five feet above the top of the shed--those who had designed the campong had been careful to set this structure sufficiently far from the palisade to prevent its forming too easy an avenue of escape.
The creature glanced fearfully toward the workshop.