sound that occurred behind us as we moved off might have expressed anger, or anguish, or both. We increased our pace a little.
"Alfred!" called a voice like a disconsolate foghorn. "I want Alfred!"
Alfred cast a backward glance, and stepped out a trifle more smartly.
There was a thump which rattled the bars and shook the building.
I looked round to see Una in the act of retiring to the back of her cage with the obvious intention of making another onslaught. We beat it for the door. Alfred was first through.
A thunderous crash sounded at the other end of the room. As Dixon was closing the door behind us I had a glimpse of Una carrying bars and furnishings before her like a runaway bus.
"I think we shall need some help with her," Dixon said.
Small sparkles of perspiration were standing on Alfred's brow.
"You—you don't think it might be better if we were to—?" he began.
"No," said Dixon. "She'd see you through the windows."
"Oh," said Alfred, unhappily.
Dixon led the way into a large sittingroom, and made for the telephone. He gave urgent messages to the firebrigade and the police.
"I don't think there's anything we can do till they get here," he said, as he put the receiver down. "The lab wing will probably hold her all right if she isn't tantalized any more."
"Tantalized! I like that—!" Alfred started to protest, but Dixon went on:
"Luckily, being where she is, she couldn't see the door; so the odds are that she can have no idea of the purpose or nature of doors. What's worrying me most is the damage she's doing in there. Just listen!"
We did listen for some moments to the muffled sounds of smashing, splintering and rending. Among it there was occasionally a mournful disyllabic boom which might, or might not, have been the word "Alfred".
Dixon's expression became more anguished as the noise continued unabated.
"All my records! All the work of years is in there," he said, bitterly. "Your Society's going to have to pay plenty for this, I warn you—but that won't give me back my records. She was always perfectly docile until your friend excited her—never a moment's trouble with her."
Alfred began to protest again, but was interrupted by the sound of something massive being overturned with a thunderous crash, followed by a noise like a waterfall of broken glass.
"Gimme Alfred! I want Alfred!" demanded the stentorian voice.
Alfred half rose, and then sat down agitatedly on the edge of his chair. His eyes flicked nervously hither and thither. He displayed a tendency to bite his fingernails.
"Ah!" said Dixon, with a suddenness which started both of us. "Ah, that must have been it! I must have calculated the hormone requirement on the overall weight —including the carapace. Of course! What a ridiculous slip to make! Tchtch! I should've done much better to keep to the original parthenogen — Good heavens!"
The crash which caused his exclamation brought us all to our feet, and across to the door.
Una had discovered the way out of the wing, all right, and come through it like a bulldozer. Door, frame and part of the brickwork had come with her. At the moment she was stumbling about amid the resulting mess. Dixon didn't hesitate.
"Quick! Upstairs—that'll beat her," he said.
At the same instant Una spotted us, and let out a boom.. We sprinted across the hall for the staircase.
Initial mobility was our advantage; a freight like Una's takes appreciable time to get under way. I fled up the flight with Dixon just ahead of me and, I imagined, Alfred just behind. However, I was not quite right there. I don't know whether Alfred had been momentarily transfixed, or had fumbled his takeoff, but when I was at the top I looked back to see him still only a few steps up, with Una thundering in pursuit like a rocketassisted car of Juggernaut.
Alfred kept on coming, though. But so did Una. She may not have been familiar with stairs, nor designed to use them. But she tackled them, for all that. She even got about
"Alfred!" called a voice like a disconsolate foghorn. "I want Alfred!"
Alfred cast a backward glance, and stepped out a trifle more smartly.
There was a thump which rattled the bars and shook the building.
I looked round to see Una in the act of retiring to the back of her cage with the obvious intention of making another onslaught. We beat it for the door. Alfred was first through.
A thunderous crash sounded at the other end of the room. As Dixon was closing the door behind us I had a glimpse of Una carrying bars and furnishings before her like a runaway bus.
"I think we shall need some help with her," Dixon said.
Small sparkles of perspiration were standing on Alfred's brow.
"You—you don't think it might be better if we were to—?" he began.
"No," said Dixon. "She'd see you through the windows."
"Oh," said Alfred, unhappily.
Dixon led the way into a large sittingroom, and made for the telephone. He gave urgent messages to the firebrigade and the police.
"I don't think there's anything we can do till they get here," he said, as he put the receiver down. "The lab wing will probably hold her all right if she isn't tantalized any more."
"Tantalized! I like that—!" Alfred started to protest, but Dixon went on:
"Luckily, being where she is, she couldn't see the door; so the odds are that she can have no idea of the purpose or nature of doors. What's worrying me most is the damage she's doing in there. Just listen!"
We did listen for some moments to the muffled sounds of smashing, splintering and rending. Among it there was occasionally a mournful disyllabic boom which might, or might not, have been the word "Alfred".
Dixon's expression became more anguished as the noise continued unabated.
"All my records! All the work of years is in there," he said, bitterly. "Your Society's going to have to pay plenty for this, I warn you—but that won't give me back my records. She was always perfectly docile until your friend excited her—never a moment's trouble with her."
Alfred began to protest again, but was interrupted by the sound of something massive being overturned with a thunderous crash, followed by a noise like a waterfall of broken glass.
"Gimme Alfred! I want Alfred!" demanded the stentorian voice.
Alfred half rose, and then sat down agitatedly on the edge of his chair. His eyes flicked nervously hither and thither. He displayed a tendency to bite his fingernails.
"Ah!" said Dixon, with a suddenness which started both of us. "Ah, that must have been it! I must have calculated the hormone requirement on the overall weight —including the carapace. Of course! What a ridiculous slip to make! Tchtch! I should've done much better to keep to the original parthenogen — Good heavens!"
The crash which caused his exclamation brought us all to our feet, and across to the door.
Una had discovered the way out of the wing, all right, and come through it like a bulldozer. Door, frame and part of the brickwork had come with her. At the moment she was stumbling about amid the resulting mess. Dixon didn't hesitate.
"Quick! Upstairs—that'll beat her," he said.
At the same instant Una spotted us, and let out a boom.. We sprinted across the hall for the staircase.
Initial mobility was our advantage; a freight like Una's takes appreciable time to get under way. I fled up the flight with Dixon just ahead of me and, I imagined, Alfred just behind. However, I was not quite right there. I don't know whether Alfred had been momentarily transfixed, or had fumbled his takeoff, but when I was at the top I looked back to see him still only a few steps up, with Una thundering in pursuit like a rocketassisted car of Juggernaut.
Alfred kept on coming, though. But so did Una. She may not have been familiar with stairs, nor designed to use them. But she tackled them, for all that. She even got about
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