Hardly was it shut when Mrs.
Challenger darted out from the
dining-room. The small woman
was in a furious temper.
She barred her husband's way like an enraged chicken in front of
a bulldog. It was evident that she had seen my exit, but had not
observed my return.
"You brute, George!" she screamed. "You've
hurt that nice young man."
He jerked backwards with his
thumb.
"Here
he is, safe
and sound behind
me."
She was confused, but not unduly
so.
"I
am so sorry,
I didn't see
you."
"I
assure you,
madam, that
it is all right."
"He
has marked
your poor face!
Oh, George, what a brute you
are! Nothing but scandals from
one end of the week to the other.
Everyone hating and making fun
of you. You've finished my patience.
This ends it."
"Dirty linen," he
rumbled.
"It's not a secret," she cried. "Do
you suppose that the whole street--the
whole of London, for that matter----
Get away, Austin, we don't want
you here. Do you suppose they
don't all talk about you? Where
is your dignity? You, a man who
should have been Regius Professor
at a great University with a
thousand students all revering
you. Where is your dignity, George?"
"How
about yours,
my dear?"
"You
try me too
much. A ruffian--a
common brawling ruffian-- that's
what you have become."
"Be
good, Jessie."
"A
roaring, raging
bully!"
"That's done it! Stool of penance!" said
he.
To my amazement he stooped,
picked her up, and placed her
sitting upon a high pedestal
of black marble in the angle
of the hall. It was at least
seven feet high, and so thin
that she could hardly balance
upon it. A more absurd object
than she presented cocked up
there with her face convulsed
with anger, her feet dangling,
and her body rigid for fear of
an upset, I could not imagine.
"Let me down!" she
wailed.
"Say
`please.'"
"You
brute, George!
Let me down
this instant!"
"Come
into the study,
Mr. Malone."
"Really, sir----!" said
I, looking
at the lady.
"Here's
Mr. Malone
pleading for
you, Jessie.
Say
`please,' and
down you come."
"Oh,
you brute!
Please! please!"
"You
must behave
yourself, dear.
Mr. Malone
is a Pressman.
He will have it all in his rag
to-morrow, and sell an extra
dozen among our neighbors. `Strange
story of high life'--you felt
fairly high on that pedestal,
did you not? Then a sub-title,
`Glimpse of a singular menage.'
He's a foul feeder, is Mr. Malone,
a carrion eater, like all of
his kind--porcus ex grege diaboli--
a swine from the devil's herd.
That's it, Malone--what?"
"You are really intolerable!" said
I, hotly.
He bellowed with laughter.
"We shall have a coalition
presently," he boomed, looking
from his wife to me and puffing
out his enormous chest. Then,
suddenly altering his tone, "Excuse
this frivolous family badinage,
Mr. Malone. I called you back
for some more serious purpose
than to mix you up with our little
domestic pleasantries. Run away,
little woman, and don't fret." He
placed a huge hand upon each
of her shoulders. "All that you
say is perfectly true. I should
be a better man if I did what
you advise, but I shouldn't be
quite George Edward Challenger.
There are plenty of better men,
my dear, but only one G. E. C.
So make the best of him." He
suddenly gave her a resounding
kiss, which embarrassed me even
more than his violence had done. "Now,
Mr. Malone," he continued, with
a great accession of dignity, "this
way, if YOU please."
We re-entered the room which
we had left so tumultuously ten
minutes before. The Professor
closed the door carefully behind
us, motioned me into an arm-chair,
and pushed a cigar-box under
my nose.
"Real San Juan Colorado," he
said. "Excitable people like
you are the better for narcotics.
Heavens! don't bite it! Cut--and
cut with reverence! Now lean
back, and listen attentively
to whatever I may care to say
to you. If any remark should
occur to you, you can reserve
it for some more opportune time.
"First of all, as to your return
to my house after your most justifiable
expulsion"--he protruded his
beard, and stared at me as one
who challenges and invites contradiction--"after,
as I say, your well-merited expulsion.
The reason lay in your answer
to that most officious policeman,
in which I seemed to discern
some glimmering of good feeling
upon your part--more, at any
rate, than I am accustomed to
associate with your profession.
In admitting that the fault of
the incident lay with you, you
gave some evidence of a certain
mental detachment and breadth
of view which attracted my favorable
notice. The sub-species of the
human race to which you unfortunately
belong has always been below
my mental horizon. Your words
brought you suddenly above it.
You swam up into my serious notice.
For this reason I asked you to
return with me, as I was minded
to make your further acquaintance.
You will kindly deposit your
ash in the small Japanese tray
on the bamboo table which stands
at your left elbow."
All this he boomed forth like
a professor addressing his class.
He had swung round his revolving
chair so as to face me, and he
sat all puffed out like an enormous
bull-frog, his head laid back
and his eyes half-covered by
supercilious lids. Now he suddenly
turned himself sideways, and
all I could see of him was tangled
hair with a red, protruding ear.
He was scratching about among
the litter of papers upon his
desk. He faced me presently with
what looked like a very tattered
sketch-book in his hand.
"I am going to talk to you
about South America," said he. "No
comments if you please. First
of all, I wish you to understand
that nothing I tell you now is
to be repeated in any public
way unless you have my express
permission. That permission will,
in all human probability, never
be given. Is that clear?"
"It is very hard," said I. "Surely
a judicious account----"
He replaced the notebook upon
the table.
"That ends it," said he. "I
wish you a very good morning."
"No, no!" I cried. "I
submit to any
conditions.
So far as
I can see, I have no choice."
"None in the world," said
he.
"Well,
then, I promise."
"Word
of honor?"
"Word
of honor."
He looked at me with doubt
in his insolent eyes.
"After all, what do I know
about your honor?" said he.
"Upon my word, sir," I cried,
angrily, "you take very great
liberties! I have never been
so insulted in my life."
He seemed more interested than
annoyed at my outbreak.
"Round-headed," he muttered. "Brachycephalic,
gray-eyed, black-haired, with
suggestion of the negroid. Celtic,
I presume?"
"I
am an Irishman,
sir."
"Irish
Irish?"
"Yes,
sir."
"That,
of course,
explains it.
Let me see;
you have given
me your promise that my confidence
will be respected? That confidence,
I may say, will be far from complete.
But I am prepared to give you
a few indications which will
be of interest. In the first
place, you are probably aware
that two years ago I made a journey
to South America--one which will
be classical in the scientific
history of the world? The object
of my journey was to verify some
conclusions of Wallace and of
Bates, which could only be done
by observing their reported facts
under the same conditions in
which they had themselves noted
them. If my expedition had no
other results it would still
have been noteworthy, but a curious
incident occurred to me while
there which opened up an entirely
fresh line of inquiry.
"You
are aware--or
probably, in
this half-educated
age, you
are not aware--that the country
round some parts of the Amazon
is still only partially explored,
and that a great number of tributaries,
some of them entirely uncharted,
run into the main river. It was
my business to visit this little-known
back-country and to examine its
fauna, which furnished me with
the materials for several chapters
for that great and monumental
work upon zoology which will
be my life's justification. I
was returning, my work accomplished,
when I had occasion to spend
a night at a small Indian village
at a point where a certain tributary--the
name and position of which I
withhold--opens into the main
river. The natives were Cucama
Indians, an amiable but degraded
race, with mental powers hardly
superior to the average Londoner.
I had effected some cures among
them upon my way up the river,
and had impressed them considerably
with my personality, so that
I was not surprised to find myself
eagerly awaited upon my return.
I gathered from their signs that
someone had urgent need of my
medical services, and I followed
the chief to one of his huts.
When I entered I found that the
sufferer to whose aid I had been
summoned had that instant expired.
He was, to my surprise, no Indian,
but a white man; indeed, I may
say a very white man, for he
was flaxen-haired and had some
characteristics of an albino.
He was clad in rags, was very
emaciated, and bore every trace
of prolonged hardship. So far
as I could understand the account
of the natives, he was a complete
stranger to them, and had come
upon their village through the
woods alone and in the last stage
of exhaustion.
"The
man's knapsack
lay beside
the couch,
and I examined
the
contents. His name was written
upon a tab within it--Maple White,
Lake Avenue, Detroit, Michigan.
It is a name to which I am prepared
always to lift my hat. It is
not too much to say that it will
rank level with my own when the
final credit of this business
comes to be apportioned.
"From
the contents
of the knapsack
it was evident that this man
had been an artist and poet in
search of effects. There were
scraps of verse. I do not profess
to be a judge of such things,
but they appeared to me to be
singularly wanting in merit.
There were also some rather commonplace
pictures of river scenery, a
paint-box, a box of colored chalks,
some brushes, that curved bone
which lies upon my inkstand,
a volume of Baxter's `Moths and
Butterflies,' a cheap revolver,
and a few cartridges. Of personal
equipment he either had none
or he had lost it in his journey.
Such were the total effects of
this strange American Bohemian.
"I
was turning
away from him
when I observed that something
projected from the front of his
ragged jacket. It was this sketch-book,
which was as dilapidated then
as you see it now. Indeed, I
can assure you that a first folio
of Shakespeare could not be treated
with greater reverence than this
relic has been since it came
into my possession. I hand it
to you now, and I ask you to
take it page by page and to examine
the contents."
He helped himself to a cigar
and leaned back with a fiercely
critical pair of eyes, taking
note of the effect which this
document would produce.
I
had opened
the volume
with some expectation
of a revelation,
though of what nature I could
not imagine. The first page was
disappointing, however, as it
contained nothing but the picture
of a very fat man in a pea-jacket,
with the legend, "Jimmy Colver
on the Mail-boat," written beneath
it. There followed several pages
which were filled with small
sketches of Indians and their
ways. Then came a picture of
a cheerful and corpulent ecclesiastic
in a shovel hat, sitting opposite
a very thin European, and the
inscription: "Lunch with Fra
Cristofero at Rosario." Studies
of women and babies accounted
for several more pages, and then
there was an unbroken series
of animal drawings with such
explanations as "Manatee upon
Sandbank," "Turtles and Their
Eggs," "Black Ajouti under a
Miriti Palm"--the matter disclosing
some sort of pig-like animal;
and finally came a double page
of studies of long-snouted and
very unpleasant saurians. I could
make nothing of it, and said
so to the Professor.
"Surely
these are only
crocodiles?"
"Alligators!
Alligators!
There is hardly
such a thing
as a true
crocodile in South America. The
distinction between them----"
"I
meant that
I could see
nothing unusual--nothing
to justify
what
you have said."
He smiled serenely.
"Try the next page," said
he.
I was still unable to sympathize.
It was a full-page sketch of
a landscape roughly tinted in
color--the kind of painting which
an open-air artist takes as a
guide to a future more elaborate
effort. There was a pale-green
foreground of feathery vegetation,
which sloped upwards and ended
in a line of cliffs dark red
in color, and curiously ribbed
like some basaltic formations
which I have seen. They extended
in an unbroken wall right across
the background. At one point
was an isolated pyramidal rock,
crowned by a great tree, which
appeared to be separated by a
cleft from the main crag. Behind
it all, a blue tropical sky.
A thin green line of vegetation
fringed the summit of the ruddy
cliff.
"Well?" he
asked.
"It is no doubt a curious formation," said
I "but I am not geologist enough
to say that it is wonderful."
"Wonderful!" he repeated. "It
is unique. It is incredible.
No one on earth has ever dreamed
of such a possibility. Now the
next."
I turned it over, and gave
an exclamation of surprise. There
was a full-page picture of the
most extraordinary creature that
I had ever seen. It was the wild
dream of an opium smoker, a vision
of delirium. The head was like
that of a fowl, the body that
of a bloated lizard, the trailing
tail was furnished with upward-
turned spikes, and the curved
back was edged with a high serrated
fringe, which looked like a dozen
cocks' wattles placed behind
each other. In front of this
creature was an absurd mannikin,
or dwarf, in human form, who
stood staring at it.
"Well, what do you think of
that?" cried the Professor, rubbing
his hands with an air of triumph.
"It
is monstrous--grotesque."
"But
what made him
draw such an
animal?"
"Trade
gin, I should
think."
"Oh,
that's the
best explanation
you can give, is it?"
"Well,
sir, what is
yours?"
"The
obvious one
that the creature
exists. That is actually sketched
from the life."
I should have laughed only
that I had a vision of our doing
another Catharine-wheel down
the passage.
"No doubt," said I, "no doubt," as
one humors an imbecile. "I confess,
however," I added, "that this
tiny human figure puzzles me.
If it were an Indian we could
set it down as evidence of some
pigmy race in America, but it
appears to be a European in a
sun-hat."
The
Professor snorted
like an angry
buffalo. "You really
touch the limit," said he. "You
enlarge my view of the possible.
Cerebral paresis! Mental inertia!
Wonderful!"
He
was too absurd
to make me
angry. Indeed,
it was a waste
of energy, for if you were going
to be angry with this man you
would be angry all the time.
I contented myself with smiling
wearily. "It struck me that the
man was small," said I.
"Look here!" he cried, leaning
forward and dabbing a great hairy
sausage of a finger on to the
picture. "You see that plant
behind the animal; I suppose
you thought it was a dandelion
or a Brussels sprout--what? Well,
it is a vegetable ivory palm,
and they run to about fifty or
sixty feet. Don't you see that
the man is put in for a purpose?
He couldn't really have stood
in front of that brute and lived
to draw it. He sketched himself
in to give a scale of heights.
He was, we will say, over five
feet high. The tree is ten times
bigger, which is what one would
expect."
"Good heavens!" I cried. "Then
you think the beast was---- Why,
Charing Cross station would hardly
make a kennel for such a brute!"
"Apart from exaggeration, he
is certainly a well-grown specimen," said
the Professor, complacently.
"But," I cried, "surely the
whole experience of the human
race is not to be set aside on
account of a single sketch"--I
had turned over the leaves and
ascertained that there was nothing
more in the book--"a single sketch
by a wandering American artist
who may have done it under hashish,
or in the delirium of fever,
or simply in order to gratify
a freakish imagination. You can't,
as a man of science, defend such
a position as that."
For answer the Professor took
a book down from a shelf.
"This is an excellent monograph
by my gifted friend, Ray Lankester!" said
he. "There is an illustration
here which would interest you.
Ah, yes, here it is! The inscription
beneath it runs: `Probable appearance
in life of the Jurassic Dinosaur
Stegosaurus. The hind leg alone
is twice as tall as a full-grown
man.' Well, what do you make
of that?"
He handed me the open book.
I started as I looked at the
picture. In this reconstructed
animal of a dead world there
was certainly a very great resemblance
to the sketch of the unknown
artist.
"That is certainly remarkable," said
I.
"But
you won't admit
that it is
final?"
"Surely
it might be
a coincidence,
or this American may have seen
a picture of the kind and carried
it in his memory. It would be
likely to recur to a man in a
delirium."
"Very good," said the Professor,
indulgently; "we leave it at
that. I will now ask you to look
at this bone." He handed over
the one which he had already
described as part of the dead
man's possessions. It was about
six inches long, and thicker
than my thumb, with some indications
of dried cartilage at one end
of it.
"To what known creature does
that bone belong?" asked the
Professor.
I examined it with care and
tried to recall some half- forgotten
knowledge.
"It might be a very thick human
collar-bone," I said.
My companion waved his hand
in contemptuous deprecation.
"The
human collar-bone
is curved.
This is straight.
There is a
groove upon its surface showing
that a great tendon played across
it, which could not be the case
with a clavicle."
"Then
I must confess
that I don't
know what it
is."
"You need not be ashamed to
expose your ignorance, for I
don't suppose the whole South
Kensington staff could give a
name to it." He took a little
bone the size of a bean out of
a pill-box. "So far as I am a
judge this human bone is the
analogue of the one which you
hold in your hand. That will
give you some idea of the size
of the creature. You will observe
from the cartilage that this
is no fossil specimen, but recent.
What do you say to that?"
"Surely
in an elephant----"
He winced as if in pain.
"Don't!
Don't talk
of elephants
in South America. Even in these
days of Board schools----"
"Well, I interrupted, "any
large South American animal--a
tapir, for example."
"You
may take it,
young man,
that I am versed
in the elements
of my business. This is not a
conceivable bone either of a
tapir or of any other creature
known to zoology. It belongs
to a very large, a very strong,
and, by all analogy, a very fierce
animal which exists upon the
face of the earth, but has not
yet come under the notice of
science. You are still unconvinced?"
"I
am at least
deeply interested."
"Then
your case is
not hopeless.
I feel that there is reason lurking
in you somewhere, so we will
patiently grope round for it.
We will now leave the dead American
and proceed with my narrative.
You can imagine that I could
hardly come away from the Amazon
without probing deeper into the
matter. There were indications
as to the direction from which
the dead traveler had come. Indian
legends would alone have been
my guide, for I found that rumors
of a strange land were common
among all the riverine tribes.
You have heard, no doubt, of
Curupuri?"
"Never."
"Curupuri
is the spirit
of the woods,
something terrible,
something malevolent, something
to be avoided. None can describe
its shape or nature, but it is
a word of terror along the Amazon.
Now all tribes agree as to the
direction in which Curupuri lives.
It was the same direction from
which the American had come.
Something terrible lay that way.
It was my business to find out
what it was."
"What did you do?" My
flippancy was
all gone. This
massive man
compelled one's attention and
respect.
"I
overcame the
extreme reluctance
of the natives--a reluctance
which extends even to talk upon
the subject--and by judicious
persuasion and gifts, aided,
I will admit, by some threats
of coercion, I got two of them
to act as guides. After many
adventures which I need not describe,
and after traveling a distance
which I will not mention, in
a direction which I withhold,
we came at last to a tract of
country which has never been
described, nor, indeed, visited
save by my unfortunate predecessor.
Would you kindly look at this?"
He handed me a photograph--half-plate
size.
"The unsatisfactory appearance
of it is due to the fact," said
he, "that on descending the river
the boat was upset and the case
which contained the undeveloped
films was broken, with disastrous
results. Nearly all of them were
totally ruined--an irreparable
loss. This is one of the few
which partially escaped. This
explanation of deficiencies or
abnormalities you will kindly
accept. There was talk of faking.
I am not in a mood to argue such
a point."
The photograph was certainly
very off-colored. An unkind critic
might easily have misinterpreted
that dim surface. It was a dull
gray landscape, and as I gradually
deciphered the details of it
I realized that it represented
a long and enormously high line
of cliffs exactly like an immense
cataract seen in the distance,
with a sloping, tree-clad plain
in the foreground.
"I believe it is the same place
as the painted picture," said
I.
"It is the same place," the
Professor answered. "I found
traces of the fellow's camp.
Now look at this."
It was a nearer view of the
same scene, though the photograph
was extremely defective. I could
distinctly see the isolated,
tree-crowned pinnacle of rock
which was detached from the crag.
"I have no doubt of it at all," said
I.
"Well, that is something gained," said
he. "We progress, do we not?
Now, will you please look at
the top of that rocky pinnacle?
Do you observe something there?"
"An
enormous tree."
"But
on the tree?"
"A large bird," said
I.
He handed me a lens.
"Yes," I said, peering through
it, "a large bird stands on the
tree. It appears to have a considerable
beak. I should say it was a pelican."
"I cannot congratulate you
upon your eyesight," said the
Professor. "It is not a pelican,
nor, indeed, is it a bird. It
may interest you to know that
I succeeded in shooting that
particular specimen. It was the
only absolute proof of my experiences
which I was able to bring away
with me."
"You have it, then?" Here
at last was
tangible corroboration.
"I
had it. It
was unfortunately
lost with so much else in the
same boat accident which ruined
my photographs. I clutched at
it as it disappeared in the swirl
of the rapids, and part of its
wing was left in my hand. I was
insensible when washed ashore,
but the miserable remnant of
my superb specimen was still
intact; I now lay it before you."
From a drawer he produced what
seemed to me to be the upper
portion of the wing of a large
bat. It was at least two feet
in length, a curved bone, with
a membranous veil beneath it.
"A monstrous bat!" I
suggested.
"Nothing of the sort," said
the Professor, severely. "Living,
as I do, in an educated and scientific
atmosphere, I could not have
conceived that the first principles
of zoology were so little known.
Is it possible that you do not
know the elementary fact in comparative
anatomy, that the wing of a bird
is really the forearm, while
the wing of a bat consists of
three elongated fingers with
membranes between? Now, in this
case, the bone is certainly not
the forearm, and you can see
for yourself that this is a single
membrane hanging upon a single
bone, and therefore that it cannot
belong to a bat. But if it is
neither bird nor bat, what is
it?"
My small stock of knowledge
was exhausted.
"I really do not know," said
I.
He opened the standard work
to which he had already referred
me.
"Here," said he, pointing to
the picture of an extraordinary
flying monster, "is an excellent
reproduction of the dimorphodon,
or pterodactyl, a flying reptile
of the Jurassic period. On the
next page is a diagram of the
mechanism of its wing. Kindly
compare it with the specimen
in your hand."
A wave of amazement passed
over me as I looked. I was convinced.
There could be no getting away
from it. The cumulative proof
was overwhelming. The sketch,
the photographs, the narrative,
and now the actual specimen--the
evidence was complete. I said
so--I said so warmly, for I felt
that the Professor was an ill-used
man. He leaned back in his chair
with drooping eyelids and a tolerant
smile, basking in this sudden
gleam of sunshine.
"It's just the very biggest
thing that I ever heard of!" said
I, though it was my journalistic
rather than my scientific enthusiasm
that was roused. "It is colossal.
You are a Columbus of science
who has discovered a lost world.
I'm awfully sorry if I seemed
to doubt you. It was all so unthinkable.
But I understand evidence when
I see it, and this should be
good enough for anyone."
The Professor purred with satisfaction.
"And
then, sir,
what did you
do next?"
"It
was the wet
season, Mr.
Malone, and my stores were exhausted.
I explored some portion of this
huge cliff, but I was unable
to find any way to scale it.
The pyramidal rock upon which
I saw and shot the pterodactyl
was more accessible. Being something
of a cragsman, I did manage to
get half way to the top of that.
From that height I had a better
idea of the plateau upon the
top of the crags. It appeared
to be very large; neither to
east nor to west could I see
any end to the vista of green-capped
cliffs. Below, it is a swampy,
jungly region, full of snakes,
insects, and fever. It is a natural
protection to this singular country."
"Did
you see any
other trace
of life?"
"No,
sir, I did
not; but during
the week that we lay encamped
at the base of the cliff we heard
some very strange noises from
above."
"But
the creature
that the American
drew? How do
you account
for that?"
"We
can only suppose
that he must
have made his
way to the
summit and seen it there. We
know, therefore, that there is
a way up. We know equally that
it must be a very difficult one,
otherwise the creatures would
have come down and overrun the
surrounding country. Surely that
is clear?"
"But
how did they
come to be
there?"
"I do not think that the problem
is a very obscure one," said
the Professor; "there can only
be one explanation. South America
is, as you may have heard, a
granite continent. At this single
point in the interior there has
been, in some far distant age,
a great, sudden volcanic upheaval.
These cliffs, I may remark, are
basaltic, and therefore plutonic.
An area, as large perhaps as
Sussex, has been lifted up en
bloc with all its living contents,
and cut off by perpendicular
precipices of a hardness which
defies erosion from all the rest
of the continent. What is the
result? Why, the ordinary laws
of Nature are suspended. The
various checks which influence
the struggle for existence in
the world at large are all neutralized
or altered. Creatures survive
which would otherwise disappear.
You will observe that both the
pterodactyl and the stegosaurus
are Jurassic, and therefore of
a great age in the order of life.
They have been artificially conserved
by those strange accidental conditions."
"But
surely your
evidence is
conclusive. You have only to
lay it before the proper authorities."
"So in my simplicity, I had
imagined," said the Professor,
bitterly. "I can only tell you
that it was not so, that I was
met at every turn by incredulity,
born partly of stupidity and
partly of jealousy. It is not
my nature, sir, to cringe to
any man, or to seek to prove
a fact if my word has been doubted.
After the first I have not condescended
to show such corroborative proofs
as I possess. The subject became
hateful to me--I would not speak
of it. When men like yourself,
who represent the foolish curiosity
of the public, came to disturb
my privacy I was unable to meet
them with dignified reserve.
By nature I am, I admit, somewhat
fiery, and under provocation
I am inclined to be violent.
I fear you may have remarked
it."
I nursed my eye and was silent.
"My wife has frequently remonstrated
with me upon the subject, and
yet I fancy that any man of honor
would feel the same. To-night,
however, I propose to give an
extreme example of the control
of the will over the emotions.
I invite you to be present at
the exhibition." He handed me
a card from his desk. "You will
perceive that Mr. Percival Waldron,
a naturalist of some popular
repute, is announced to lecture
at eight-thirty at the Zoological
Institute's Hall upon `The Record
of the Ages.' I have been specially
invited to be present upon the
platform, and to move a vote
of thanks to the lecturer. While
doing so, I shall make it my
business, with infinite tact
and delicacy, to throw out a
few remarks which may arouse
the interest of the audience
and cause some of them to desire
to go more deeply into the matter.
Nothing contentious, you understand,
but only an indication that there
are greater deeps beyond. I shall
hold myself strongly in leash,
and see whether by this self-restraint
I attain a more favorable result."
"And I may come?" I
asked eagerly.
"Why, surely," he answered,
cordially. He had an enormously
massive genial manner, which
was almost as overpowering as
his violence. His smile of benevolence
was a wonderful thing, when his
cheeks would suddenly bunch into
two red apples, between his half-closed
eyes and his great black beard. "By
all means, come. It will be a
comfort to me to know that I
have one ally in the hall, however
inefficient and ignorant of the
subject he may be. I fancy there
will be a large audience, for
Waldron, though an absolute charlatan,
has a considerable popular following.
Now, Mr. Malone, I have given
you rather more of my time than
I had intended. The individual
must not monopolize what is meant
for the world. I shall be pleased
to see you at the lecture to-night.
In the meantime, you will understand
that no public use is to be made
of any of the material that I
have given you."
"But
Mr. McArdle--my
news editor,
you know--will want to know what
I have done."
"Tell him what you like. You
can say, among other things,
that if he sends anyone else
to intrude upon me I shall call
upon him with a riding-whip.
But I leave it to you that nothing
of all this appears in print.
Very good. Then the Zoological
Institute's Hall at eight-thirty
to-night." I had a last impression
of red cheeks, blue rippling
beard, and intolerant eyes, as
he waved me out of the room.
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