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 negro, 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 humped, 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.