I
At first it seemed to the Doctor that his companion was about
to explain matters further. There was still something vaguely
communicative about his manner, and a kind of noise issued from his
rapidly moving jaws.
But it was not a human noise. It began with a succession of deep-toned
growls and grunts, and ended abruptly in a distinct bark.
"Hydrophobia," flashed through the Doctor's mind, but he dismissed the
idea immediately. He had lit a cigarette in order to soothe his nerves.
He was trying so hard to rationalise the whole proceeding, to fit the
Clockwork man into some remotely possible order of things; but it was
a difficult process, for no sooner had he grouped certain ideas in
his head than some fresh manifestation took place which rendered all
previous theories futile. At the present moment, for instance, it was
obvious that some new kind of structural alteration was taking place
in the Clockwork man's physiognomy. The phenomenon could hardly be
classed in the same category as the sudden growth of beard, although
there were points in common. Hair was again visible, this time spread
all over the rounded face and on the jaw; the nose was receding and
flattening out; the eyes were dwindling in size, and the expression in
them changed into a dull stare. The bark was repeated and followed by
an angry rumbling.
The Doctor dropped his cigarette on the plate before him and grasped
the edges of the table. His eyes were riveted upon that ghastly
spectacle of transmutation.
"Oh, God," he cried out, at last, and shivering from head to foot. "Are
you doing these things on purpose to frighten me, or can't you, _can't_
you help it? Do you think I don't believe you? Do you think I can
keep on deceiving myself? I tell you I'm ready to believe anything--I
capitulate--I only ask you to let me down lightly. I'm only human, and
human nerves weren't made to stand this."
"G-R-R-R-r-r-r-r-r," growled the Clockwork man. "WOW--WOW--can't
help it--WOUGH--WOUGH--most regrettable--wow--wow--atavism--tendency
to return--remote species--moment's notice--family
failing--_darwinism_--better in a moment--something gone wrong with the
controls. _There_--_that's_ done it. Phew!"
His face suddenly cleared, and all trace of the canine resemblance
vanished as if by magic. He got up and took two or three jerk-like
strides up and down the room. "Must keep going--when I feel like
this--either food or violent stimulus--otherwise the confounded thing
runs down--and there you are."
He paused and confronted Allingham, who had risen from his chair and
was still trembling.
"How can I help it?" implored the Clockwork man, in despair. "They
made me like this. I don't want to alarm you--but, you know, it alarms
_me_ sometimes. You can't imagine how trying it is to feel that
at any moment you might change into something else--some horrible
tree-climbing ancestor. The thing ought not to happen, but it's always
possible. They should have thought of that when they made the clock."
"It mustn't happen," said the Doctor, recovering slightly, "that's the
flat fact. If it's food you require, then food you shall have."
It had suddenly flashed across his fevered mind that downstairs in the
surgery there lay a collection of tinned foods and patent medicines,
samples that had been sent for him to test. Rather than risk a further
manifestation of collapse on the part of the Clockwork-man, he would
sacrifice these.