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Chapter XVI "A Procession! A Procession!"
I should wish to place upon record here our gratitude to all our friends upon the
Amazon for the very great kindness and hospitality which was shown to us upon our
return journey.
Very particularly would I thank Senhor Penalosa and other officials of the
Brazilian Government for the special arrangements by which we were helped upon
our way, and Senhor Pereira of Para, to
whose forethought we owe the complete outfit for a decent appearance in the
civilized world which we found ready for us at that town.
It seemed a poor return for all the courtesy which we encountered that we
should deceive our hosts and benefactors, but under the circumstances we had really
no alternative, and I hereby tell them that
they will only waste their time and their money if they attempt to follow upon our
traces.
Even the names have been altered in our accounts, and I am very sure that no one,
from the most careful study of them, could come within a thousand miles of our unknown
land.
The excitement which had been caused through those parts of South America which
we had to traverse was imagined by us to be purely local, and I can assure our friends
in England that we had no notion of the
uproar which the mere rumor of our experiences had caused through Europe.
It was not until the Ivernia was within five hundred miles of Southampton that the
wireless messages from paper after paper and agency after agency, offering huge
prices for a short return message as to our
actual results, showed us how strained was the attention not only of the scientific
world but of the general public.
It was agreed among us, however, that no definite statement should be given to the
Press until we had met the members of the Zoological Institute, since as delegates it
was our clear duty to give our first report
to the body from which we had received our commission of investigation.
Thus, although we found Southampton full of Pressmen, we absolutely refused to give any
information, which had the natural effect of focussing public attention upon the
meeting which was advertised for the evening of November 7th.
For this gathering, the Zoological Hall which had been the scene of the inception
of our task was found to be far too small, and it was only in the Queen's Hall in
Regent Street that accommodation could be found.
It is now common knowledge the promoters might have ventured upon the Albert Hall
and still found their space too scanty.
It was for the second evening after our arrival that the great meeting had been
fixed. For the first, we had each, no doubt, our
own pressing personal affairs to absorb us.
Of mine I cannot yet speak. It may be that as it stands further from me
I may think of it, and even speak of it, with less emotion.
I have shown the reader in the beginning of this narrative where lay the springs of my
action.
It is but right, perhaps, that I should carry on the tale and show also the
results. And yet the day may come when I would not
have it otherwise.
At least I have been driven forth to take part in a wondrous adventure, and I cannot
but be thankful to the force that drove me. And now I turn to the last supreme eventful
moment of our adventure.
As I was racking my brain as to how I should best describe it, my eyes fell upon
the issue of my own Journal for the morning of the 8th of November with the full and
excellent account of my friend and fellow- reporter Macdona.
What can I do better than transcribe his narrative--head-lines and all?
I admit that the paper was exuberant in the matter, out of compliment to its own
enterprise in sending a correspondent, but the other great dailies were hardly less
full in their account.
Thus, then, friend Mac in his report: THE NEW WORLD
GREAT MEETING AT THE QUEEN'S HALL SCENES OF UPROAR
EXTRAORDINARY INCIDENT WHAT WAS IT?
NOCTURNAL RIOT IN REGENT STREET (Special)
"The much-discussed meeting of the Zoological Institute, convened to hear the
report of the Committee of Investigation sent out last year to South America to test
the assertions made by Professor Challenger
as to the continued existence of prehistoric life upon that Continent, was
held last night in the greater Queen's Hall, and it is safe to say that it is
likely to be a red letter date in the
history of Science, for the proceedings were of so remarkable and sensational a
character that no one present is ever likely to forget them."
(Oh, brother scribe Macdona, what a monstrous opening sentence!)
"The tickets were theoretically confined to members and their friends, but the latter
is an elastic term, and long before eight o'clock, the hour fixed for the
commencement of the proceedings, all parts of the Great Hall were tightly packed.
The general public, however, which most unreasonably entertained a grievance at
having been excluded, stormed the doors at a quarter to eight, after a prolonged melee
in which several people were injured, including Inspector Scoble of H.
Division, whose leg was unfortunately broken.
After this unwarrantable invasion, which not only filled every passage, but even
intruded upon the space set apart for the Press, it is estimated that nearly five
thousand people awaited the arrival of the travelers.
When they eventually appeared, they took their places in the front of a platform
which already contained all the leading scientific men, not only of this country,
but of France and of Germany.
Sweden was also represented, in the person of Professor Sergius, the famous Zoologist
of the University of Upsala.
The entrance of the four heroes of the occasion was the signal for a remarkable
demonstration of welcome, the whole audience rising and cheering for some
minutes.
An acute observer might, however, have detected some signs of dissent amid the
applause, and gathered that the proceedings were likely to become more lively than
harmonious.
It may safely be prophesied, however, that no one could have foreseen the
extraordinary turn which they were actually to take.
"Of the appearance of the four wanderers little need be said, since their
photographs have for some time been appearing in all the papers.
They bear few traces of the hardships which they are said to have undergone.
Professor Challenger's beard may be more shaggy, Professor Summerlee's features more
ascetic, Lord John Roxton's figure more gaunt, and all three may be burned to a
darker tint than when they left our shores,
but each appeared to be in most excellent health.
As to our own representative, the well- known athlete and international Rugby
football player, E.D. Malone, he looks trained to a hair, and as he surveyed the
crowd a smile of good-humored contentment pervaded his honest but homely face."
(All right, Mac, wait till I get you alone!)
"When quiet had been restored and the audience resumed their seats after the
ovation which they had given to the travelers, the chairman, the Duke of
Durham, addressed the meeting.
'He would not,' he said, 'stand for more than a moment between that vast assembly
and the treat which lay before them.
It was not for him to anticipate what Professor Summerlee, who was the spokesman
of the committee, had to say to them, but it was common rumor that their expedition
had been crowned by extraordinary success.'
(Applause.)
'Apparently the age of romance was not dead, and there was common ground upon
which the wildest imaginings of the novelist could meet the actual scientific
investigations of the searcher for truth.
He would only add, before he sat down, that he rejoiced--and all of them would rejoice-
-that these gentlemen had returned safe and sound from their difficult and dangerous
task, for it cannot be denied that any
disaster to such an expedition would have inflicted a well-nigh irreparable loss to
the cause of Zoological science.' (Great applause, in which Professor
Challenger was observed to join.)
"Professor Summerlee's rising was the signal for another extraordinary outbreak
of enthusiasm, which broke out again at intervals throughout his address.
That address will not be given in extenso in these columns, for the reason that a
full account of the whole adventures of the expedition is being published as a
supplement from the pen of our own special correspondent.
Some general indications will therefore suffice.
Having described the genesis of their journey, and paid a handsome tribute to his
friend Professor Challenger, coupled with an apology for the incredulity with which
his assertions, now fully vindicated, had
been received, he gave the actual course of their journey, carefully withholding such
information as would aid the public in any attempt to locate this remarkable plateau.
Having described, in general terms, their course from the main river up to the time
that they actually reached the base of the cliffs, he enthralled his hearers by his
account of the difficulties encountered by
the expedition in their repeated attempts to mount them, and finally described how
they succeeded in their desperate endeavors, which cost the lives of their
two devoted half-breed servants."
(This amazing reading of the affair was the result of Summerlee's endeavors to avoid
raising any questionable matter at the meeting.)
"Having conducted his audience in fancy to the summit, and marooned them there by
reason of the fall of their bridge, the Professor proceeded to describe both the
horrors and the attractions of that remarkable land.
Of personal adventures he said little, but laid stress upon the rich harvest reaped by
Science in the observations of the wonderful beast, bird, insect, and plant
life of the plateau.
Peculiarly rich in the coleoptera and in the lepidoptera, forty-six new species of
the one and ninety-four of the other had been secured in the course of a few weeks.
It was, however, in the larger animals, and especially in the larger animals supposed
to have been long extinct, that the interest of the public was naturally
centered.
Of these he was able to give a goodly list, but had little doubt that it would be
largely extended when the place had been more thoroughly investigated.
He and his companions had seen at least a dozen creatures, most of them at a
distance, which corresponded with nothing at present known to Science.
These would in time be duly classified and examined.
He instanced a snake, the cast skin of which, deep purple in color, was fifty-one
feet in length, and mentioned a white creature, supposed to be mammalian, which
gave forth well-marked phosphorescence in
the darkness; also a large black moth, the bite of which was supposed by the Indians
to be highly poisonous.
Setting aside these entirely new forms of life, the plateau was very rich in known
prehistoric forms, dating back in some cases to early Jurassic times.
Among these he mentioned the gigantic and grotesque stegosaurus, seen once by Mr.
Malone at a drinking-place by the lake, and drawn in the sketch-book of that
adventurous American who had first penetrated this unknown world.
He described also the iguanodon and the pterodactyl--two of the first of the
wonders which they had encountered.
He then thrilled the assembly by some account of the terrible carnivorous
dinosaurs, which had on more than one occasion pursued members of the party, and
which were the most formidable of all the creatures which they had encountered.
Thence he passed to the huge and ferocious bird, the phororachus, and to the great elk
which still roams upon this upland.
It was not, however, until he sketched the mysteries of the central lake that the full
interest and enthusiasm of the audience were aroused.
One had to pinch oneself to be sure that one was awake as one heard this sane and
practical Professor in cold measured tones describing the monstrous three-eyed fish-
lizards and the huge water-snakes which inhabit this enchanted sheet of water.
Next he touched upon the Indians, and upon the extraordinary colony of anthropoid
apes, which might be looked upon as an advance upon the pithecanthropus of Java,
and as coming therefore nearer than any
known form to that hypothetical creation, the missing link.
Finally he described, amongst some merriment, the ingenious but highly
dangerous aeronautic invention of Professor Challenger, and wound up a most memorable
address by an account of the methods by
which the committee did at last find their way back to civilization.
"It had been hoped that the proceedings would end there, and that a vote of thanks
and congratulation, moved by Professor Sergius, of Upsala University, would be
duly seconded and carried; but it was soon
evident that the course of events was not destined to flow so smoothly.
Symptoms of opposition had been evident from time to time during the evening, and
now Dr. James Illingworth, of Edinburgh, rose in the center of the hall.
Dr. Illingworth asked whether an amendment should not be taken before a resolution.
"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Yes, sir, if there must be an amendment.'
"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, there must be an amendment.'
"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Then let us take it at once.'
"PROFESSOR SUMMERLEE (springing to his feet): 'Might I explain, your Grace, that
this man is my personal enemy ever since our controversy in the Quarterly Journal of
Science as to the true nature of Bathybius?'
"THE CHAIRMAN: 'I fear I cannot go into personal matters.
Proceed.'
"Dr. Illingworth was imperfectly heard in part of his remarks on account of the
strenuous opposition of the friends of the explorers.
Some attempts were also made to pull him down.
Being a man of enormous physique, however, and possessed of a very powerful voice, he
dominated the tumult and succeeded in finishing his speech.
It was clear, from the moment of his rising, that he had a number of friends and
sympathizers in the hall, though they formed a minority in the audience.
The attitude of the greater part of the public might be described as one of
attentive neutrality.
"Dr. Illingworth began his remarks by expressing his high appreciation of the
scientific work both of Professor Challenger and of Professor Summerlee.
He much regretted that any personal bias should have been read into his remarks,
which were entirely dictated by his desire for scientific truth.
His position, in fact, was substantially the same as that taken up by Professor
Summerlee at the last meeting.
At that last meeting Professor Challenger had made certain assertions which had been
queried by his colleague.
Now this colleague came forward himself with the same assertions and expected them
to remain unquestioned. Was this reasonable?
('Yes,' 'No,' and prolonged interruption, during which Professor Challenger was heard
from the Press box to ask leave from the chairman to put Dr. Illingworth into the
street.)
A year ago one man said certain things. Now four men said other and more startling
ones.
Was this to constitute a final proof where the matters in question were of the most
revolutionary and incredible character?
There had been recent examples of travelers arriving from the unknown with certain
tales which had been too readily accepted. Was the London Zoological Institute to
place itself in this position?
He admitted that the members of the committee were men of character.
But human nature was very complex. Even Professors might be misled by the
desire for notoriety.
Like moths, we all love best to flutter in the light.
Heavy-game shots liked to be in a position to cap the tales of their rivals, and
journalists were not averse from sensational coups, even when imagination
had to aid fact in the process.
Each member of the committee had his own motive for making the most of his results.
('Shame! shame!') He had no desire to be offensive.
('You are!' and interruption.)
The corroboration of these wondrous tales was really of the most slender description.
What did it amount to? Some photographs.
{Was it possible that in this age of ingenious manipulation photographs could be
accepted as evidence?} What more?
We have a story of a flight and a descent by ropes which precluded the production of
larger specimens. It was ingenious, but not convincing.
It was understood that Lord John Roxton claimed to have the skull of a phororachus.
He could only say that he would like to see that skull.
"LORD JOHN ROXTON: 'Is this fellow calling me a liar?'
(Uproar.) "THE CHAIRMAN: 'Order! order!
Dr. Illingworth, I must direct you to bring your remarks to a conclusion and to move
your amendment.' "DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, I have more
to say, but I bow to your ruling.
I move, then, that, while Professor Summerlee be thanked for his interesting
address, the whole matter shall be regarded as 'non-proven,' and shall be referred back
to a larger, and possibly more reliable Committee of Investigation.'
"It is difficult to describe the confusion caused by this amendment.
A large section of the audience expressed their indignation at such a slur upon the
travelers by noisy shouts of dissent and cries of, 'Don't put it!'
'Withdraw!'
'Turn him out!' On the other hand, the malcontents--and it
cannot be denied that they were fairly numerous--cheered for the amendment, with
cries of 'Order!'
'Chair!' and 'Fair play!' A scuffle broke out in the back benches,
and blows were freely exchanged among the medical students who crowded that part of
the hall.
It was only the moderating influence of the presence of large numbers of ladies which
prevented an absolute riot. Suddenly, however, there was a pause, a
hush, and then complete silence.
Professor Challenger was on his feet. His appearance and manner are peculiarly
arresting, and as he raised his hand for order the whole audience settled down
expectantly to give him a hearing.
"'It will be within the recollection of many present,' said Professor Challenger,
'that similar foolish and unmannerly scenes marked the last meeting at which I have
been able to address them.
On that occasion Professor Summerlee was the chief offender, and though he is now
chastened and contrite, the matter could not be entirely forgotten.
I have heard to-night similar, but even more offensive, sentiments from the person
who has just sat down, and though it is a conscious effort of self-effacement to come
down to that person's mental level, I will
endeavor to do so, in order to allay any reasonable doubt which could possibly exist
in the minds of anyone.' (Laughter and interruption.)
'I need not remind this audience that, though Professor Summerlee, as the head of
the Committee of Investigation, has been put up to speak to-night, still it is I who
am the real prime mover in this business,
and that it is mainly to me that any successful result must be ascribed.
I have safely conducted these three gentlemen to the spot mentioned, and I
have, as you have heard, convinced them of the accuracy of my previous account.
We had hoped that we should find upon our return that no one was so dense as to
dispute our joint conclusions.
Warned, however, by my previous experience, I have not come without such proofs as may
convince a reasonable man.
As explained by Professor Summerlee, our cameras have been tampered with by the ape-
men when they ransacked our camp, and most of our negatives ruined.'
(Jeers, laughter, and 'Tell us another!' from the back.)
'I have mentioned the ape-men, and I cannot forbear from saying that some of the sounds
which now meet my ears bring back most vividly to my recollection my experiences
with those interesting creatures.'
(Laughter.)
'In spite of the destruction of so many invaluable negatives, there still remains
in our collection a certain number of corroborative photographs showing the
conditions of life upon the plateau.
Did they accuse them of having forged these photographs?'
(A voice, 'Yes,' and considerable interruption which ended in several men
being put out of the hall.)
'The negatives were open to the inspection of experts.
But what other evidence had they?
Under the conditions of their escape it was naturally impossible to bring a large
amount of baggage, but they had rescued Professor Summerlee's collections of
butterflies and beetles, containing many new species.
Was this not evidence?' (Several voices, 'No.')
'Who said no?'
"DR. ILLINGWORTH (rising): 'Our point is that such a collection might have been made
in other places than a prehistoric plateau.'
(Applause.)
"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'No doubt, sir, we have to bow to your scientific authority,
although I must admit that the name is unfamiliar.
Passing, then, both the photographs and the entomological collection, I come to the
varied and accurate information which we bring with us upon points which have never
before been elucidated.
For example, upon the domestic habits of the pterodactyl--'(A voice: 'Bosh,' and
uproar)--'I say, that upon the domestic habits of the pterodactyl we can throw a
flood of light.
I can exhibit to you from my portfolio a picture of that creature taken from life
which would convince you----' "DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'No picture could
convince us of anything.'
"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'You would require to see the thing itself?'
"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Undoubtedly.' "PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'And you would
accept that?'
"DR. ILLINGWORTH (laughing): 'Beyond a doubt.'
"It was at this point that the sensation of the evening arose--a sensation so dramatic
that it can never have been paralleled in the history of scientific gatherings.
Professor Challenger raised his hand in the air as a signal, and at once our colleague,
Mr. E.D. Malone, was observed to rise and to make his way to the back of the
platform.
An instant later he re-appeared in company of a gigantic ***, the two of them
bearing between them a large square packing-case.
It was evidently of great weight, and was slowly carried forward and placed in front
of the Professor's chair.
All sound had hushed in the audience and everyone was absorbed in the spectacle
before them. Professor Challenger drew off the top of
the case, which formed a sliding lid.
Peering down into the box he snapped his fingers several times and was heard from
the Press seat to say, 'Come, then, pretty, pretty!' in a coaxing voice.
An instant later, with a scratching, rattling sound, a most horrible and
loathsome creature appeared from below and perched itself upon the side of the case.
Even the unexpected fall of the Duke of Durham into the orchestra, which occurred
at this moment, could not distract the petrified attention of the vast audience.
The face of the creature was like the wildest gargoyle that the imagination of a
mad medieval builder could have conceived.
It was malicious, horrible, with two small red eyes as bright as points of burning
coal.
Its long, savage mouth, which was held half-open, was full of a double row of
shark-like teeth.
Its shoulders were ***, and round them were draped what appeared to be a faded
gray shawl. It was the devil of our childhood in
person.
There was a turmoil in the audience-- someone screamed, two ladies in the front
row fell senseless from their chairs, and there was a general movement upon the
platform to follow their chairman into the orchestra.
For a moment there was danger of a general panic.
Professor Challenger threw up his hands to still the commotion, but the movement
alarmed the creature beside him.
Its strange shawl suddenly unfurled, spread, and fluttered as a pair of leathery
wings. Its owner grabbed at its legs, but too late
to hold it.
It had sprung from the perch and was circling slowly round the Queen's Hall with
a dry, leathery flapping of its ten-foot wings, while a putrid and insidious odor
pervaded the room.
The cries of the people in the galleries, who were alarmed at the near approach of
those glowing eyes and that murderous beak, excited the creature to a frenzy.
Faster and faster it flew, beating against walls and chandeliers in a blind frenzy of
alarm. 'The window!
For heaven's sake shut that window!' roared the Professor from the platform, dancing
and wringing his hands in an agony of apprehension.
Alas, his warning was too late!
In a moment the creature, beating and bumping along the wall like a huge moth
within a gas-shade, came upon the opening, squeezed its hideous bulk through it, and
was gone.
Professor Challenger fell back into his chair with his face buried in his hands,
while the audience gave one long, deep sigh of relief as they realized that the
incident was over.
"Then--oh! how shall one describe what took place then--when the full exuberance of the
majority and the full reaction of the minority united to make one great wave of
enthusiasm, which rolled from the back of
the hall, gathering volume as it came, swept over the orchestra, submerged the
platform, and carried the four heroes away upon its crest?"
(Good for you, Mac!)
"If the audience had done less than justice, surely it made ample amends.
Every one was on his feet. Every one was moving, shouting,
gesticulating.
A dense crowd of cheering men were round the four travelers.
'Up with them! up with them!' cried a hundred voices.
In a moment four figures shot up above the crowd.
In vain they strove to break loose. They were held in their lofty places of
honor.
It would have been hard to let them down if it had been wished, so dense was the crowd
around them. 'Regent Street!
Regent Street!' sounded the voices.
There was a swirl in the packed multitude, and a slow current, bearing the four upon
their shoulders, made for the door. Out in the street the scene was
extraordinary.
An assemblage of not less than a hundred thousand people was waiting.
The close-packed throng extended from the other side of the Langham Hotel to Oxford
Circus.
A roar of acclamation greeted the four adventurers as they appeared, high above
the heads of the people, under the vivid electric lamps outside the hall.
'A procession!
A procession!' was the cry. In a dense phalanx, blocking the streets
from side to side, the crowd set forth, taking the route of Regent Street, Pall
Mall, St. James's Street, and Piccadilly.
The whole central traffic of London was held up, and many collisions were reported
between the demonstrators upon the one side and the police and taxi-cabmen upon the
other.
Finally, it was not until after midnight that the four travelers were released at
the entrance to Lord John Roxton's chambers in the Albany, and that the exuberant
crowd, having sung 'They are Jolly Good
Fellows' in chorus, concluded their program with 'God Save the King.'
So ended one of the most remarkable evenings that London has seen for a
considerable time."
So far my friend Macdona; and it may be taken as a fairly accurate, if florid,
account of the proceedings.
As to the main incident, it was a bewildering surprise to the audience, but
not, I need hardly say, to us.
The reader will remember how I met Lord John Roxton upon the very occasion when, in
his protective crinoline, he had gone to bring the "Devil's chick" as he called it,
for Professor Challenger.
I have hinted also at the trouble which the Professor's baggage gave us when we left
the plateau, and had I described our voyage I might have said a good deal of the worry
we had to coax with putrid fish the appetite of our filthy companion.
If I have not said much about it before, it was, of course, that the Professor's
earnest desire was that no possible rumor of the unanswerable argument which we
carried should be allowed to leak out until
the moment came when his enemies were to be confuted.
One word as to the fate of the London pterodactyl.
Nothing can be said to be certain upon this point.
There is the evidence of two frightened women that it perched upon the roof of the
Queen's Hall and remained there like a diabolical statue for some hours.
The next day it came out in the evening papers that Private Miles, of the
Coldstream Guards, on duty outside Marlborough House, had deserted his post
without leave, and was therefore courtmartialed.
Private Miles' account, that he dropped his rifle and took to his heels down the Mall
because on looking up he had suddenly seen the devil between him and the moon, was not
accepted by the Court, and yet it may have a direct bearing upon the point at issue.
The only other evidence which I can adduce is from the log of the SS. Friesland, a
Dutch-American liner, which asserts that at nine next morning, Start Point being at the
time ten miles upon their starboard
quarter, they were passed by something between a flying goat and a monstrous bat,
which was heading at a prodigious pace south and west.
If its homing instinct led it upon the right line, there can be no doubt that
somewhere out in the wastes of the Atlantic the last European pterodactyl found its
end.
And Gladys--oh, my Gladys!--Gladys of the mystic lake, now to be re-named the
Central, for never shall she have immortality through me.
Did I not always see some hard fiber in her nature?
Did I not, even at the time when I was proud to obey her behest, feel that it was
surely a poor love which could drive a lover to his death or the danger of it?
Did I not, in my truest thoughts, always recurring and always dismissed, see past
the beauty of the face, and, peering into the soul, discern the twin shadows of
selfishness and of fickleness glooming at the back of it?
Did she love the heroic and the spectacular for its own noble sake, or was it for the
glory which might, without effort or sacrifice, be reflected upon herself?
Or are these thoughts the vain wisdom which comes after the event?
It was the shock of my life. For a moment it had turned me to a cynic.
But already, as I write, a week has passed, and we have had our momentous interview
with Lord John Roxton and--well, perhaps things might be worse.
Let me tell it in a few words.
No letter or telegram had come to me at Southampton, and I reached the little villa
at Streatham about ten o'clock that night in a fever of alarm.
Was she dead or alive?
Where were all my nightly dreams of the open arms, the smiling face, the words of
praise for her man who had risked his life to humor her whim?
Already I was down from the high peaks and standing flat-footed upon earth.
Yet some good reasons given might still lift me to the clouds once more.
I rushed down the garden path, hammered at the door, heard the voice of Gladys within,
pushed past the staring maid, and strode into the sitting-room.
She was seated in a low settee under the shaded standard lamp by the piano.
In three steps I was across the room and had both her hands in mine.
"Gladys!"
I cried, "Gladys!" She looked up with amazement in her face.
She was altered in some subtle way. The expression of her eyes, the hard upward
stare, the set of the lips, was new to me.
She drew back her hands. "What do you mean?" she said.
"Gladys!" I cried.
"What is the matter?
You are my Gladys, are you not--little Gladys Hungerton?"
"No," said she, "I am Gladys Potts. Let me introduce you to my husband."
How absurd life is!
I found myself mechanically bowing and shaking hands with a little ginger-haired
man who was coiled up in the deep arm-chair which had once been sacred to my own use.
We bobbed and grinned in front of each other.
"Father lets us stay here. We are getting our house ready," said
Gladys.
"Oh, yes," said I. "You didn't get my letter at Para, then?"
"No, I got no letter." "Oh, what a pity!
It would have made all clear."
"It is quite clear," said I. "I've told William all about you," said
she. "We have no secrets.
I am so sorry about it.
But it couldn't have been so very deep, could it, if you could go off to the other
end of the world and leave me here alone. You're not crabby, are you?"
"No, no, not at all.
I think I'll go." "Have some refreshment," said the little
man, and he added, in a confidential way, "It's always like this, ain't it?
And must be unless you had polygamy, only the other way round; you understand."
He laughed like an idiot, while I made for the door.
I was through it, when a sudden fantastic impulse came upon me, and I went back to my
successful rival, who looked nervously at the electric push.
"Will you answer a question?"
I asked. "Well, within reason," said he.
"How did you do it?
Have you searched for hidden treasure, or discovered a pole, or done time on a
pirate, or flown the Channel, or what? Where is the glamour of romance?
How did you get it?"
He stared at me with a hopeless expression upon his vacuous, good-natured, scrubby
little face. "Don't you think all this is a little too
personal?" he said.
"Well, just one question," I cried. "What are you?
What is your profession?" "I am a solicitor's clerk," said he.
"Second man at Johnson and Merivale's, 41 Chancery Lane."
"Good-night!" said I, and vanished, like all disconsolate and broken-hearted heroes,
into the darkness, with grief and rage and laughter all simmering within me like a
boiling pot.
One more little scene, and I have done. Last night we all supped at Lord John
Roxton's rooms, and sitting together afterwards we smoked in good comradeship
and talked our adventures over.
It was strange under these altered surroundings to see the old, well-known
faces and figures.
There was Challenger, with his smile of condescension, his drooping eyelids, his
intolerant eyes, his aggressive beard, his huge chest, swelling and puffing as he laid
down the law to Summerlee.
And Summerlee, too, there he was with his short briar between his thin moustache and
his gray goat's-beard, his worn face protruded in eager debate as he queried all
Challenger's propositions.
Finally, there was our host, with his rugged, eagle face, and his cold, blue,
glacier eyes with always a shimmer of devilment and of humor down in the depths
of them.
Such is the last picture of them that I have carried away.
It was after supper, in his own sanctum-- the room of the pink radiance and the
innumerable trophies--that Lord John Roxton had something to say to us.
From a cupboard he had brought an old cigar-box, and this he laid before him on
the table.
"There's one thing," said he, "that maybe I should have spoken about before this, but I
wanted to know a little more clearly where I was.
No use to raise hopes and let them down again.
But it's facts, not hopes, with us now. You may remember that day we found the
pterodactyl rookery in the swamp--what?
Well, somethin' in the lie of the land took my notice.
Perhaps it has escaped you, so I will tell you.
It was a volcanic vent full of blue clay."
The Professors nodded. "Well, now, in the whole world I've only
had to do with one place that was a volcanic vent of blue clay.
That was the great De Beers Diamond Mine of Kimberley--what?
So you see I got diamonds into my head.
I rigged up a contraption to hold off those stinking beasts, and I spent a happy day
there with a spud. This is what I got."
He opened his cigar-box, and tilting it over he poured about twenty or thirty rough
stones, varying from the size of beans to that of chestnuts, on the table.
"Perhaps you think I should have told you then.
Well, so I should, only I know there are a lot of traps for the unwary, and that
stones may be of any size and yet of little value where color and consistency are clean
off.
Therefore, I brought them back, and on the first day at home I took one round to
Spink's, and asked him to have it roughly cut and valued."
He took a pill-box from his pocket, and spilled out of it a beautiful glittering
diamond, one of the finest stones that I have ever seen.
"There's the result," said he.
"He prices the lot at a minimum of two hundred thousand pounds.
Of course it is fair shares between us. I won't hear of anythin' else.
Well, Challenger, what will you do with your fifty thousand?"
"If you really persist in your generous view," said the Professor, "I should found
a private museum, which has long been one of my dreams."
"And you, Summerlee?"
"I would retire from teaching, and so find time for my final classification of the
chalk fossils."
"I'll use my own," said Lord John Roxton, "in fitting a well-formed expedition and
having another look at the dear old plateau.
As to you, young fellah, you, of course, will spend yours in gettin' married."
"Not just yet," said I, with a rueful smile.
"I think, if you will have me, that I would rather go with you."
Lord Roxton said nothing, but a brown hand was stretched out to me across the table.