“It is a man,” the voice repeated. “He comes to live with us?”
It was a thick voice, with something in it—a kind of whistling
overtone—that struck me as peculiar; but the English accent was
strangely good.
The Ape-man looked at me as though he expected something. I perceived
the pause was interrogative. “He comes to live with you,” I said.
“It is a man. He must learn the Law.”
I began to distinguish now a deeper blackness in the black, a vague
outline of a hunched-up figure. Then I noticed the opening of the place
was darkened by two more black heads. My hand tightened on my stick.
The thing in the dark repeated in a louder tone, “Say the words.” I had
missed its last remark. “Not to go on all-fours; that is the Law,” it
repeated in a kind of sing-song.