My friend's
fear or hope was not destined
to be realized. When I called
on Wednesday there was a letter
with the West Kensington postmark
upon it, and my name scrawled
across the envelope in a handwriting
which looked like a barbed-wire
railing. The contents were as
follows:--
"ENMORE PARK,
W.
"SIR,--I have duly received
your note, in which you claim
to endorse my views, although
I am not aware that they are
dependent upon endorsement either
from you or anyone else. You
have ventured to use the word
`speculation' with regard to
my statement upon the subject
of Darwinism, and I would call
your attention to the fact that
such a word in such a connection
is offensive to a degree. The
context convinces me, however,
that you have sinned rather through
ignorance and tactlessness than
through malice, so I am content
to pass the matter by. You quote
an isolated sentence from my
lecture, and appear to have some
difficulty in understanding it.
I should have thought that only
a sub-human intelligence could
have failed to grasp the point,
but if it really needs amplification
I shall consent to see you at
the hour named, though visits
and visitors of every sort are
exceeding distasteful to me.
As to your suggestion that I
may modify my opinion, I would
have you know that it is not
my habit to do so after a deliberate
expression of my mature views.
You will kindly show the envelope
of this letter to my man, Austin,
when you call, as he has to take
every precaution to shield me
from the intrusive rascals who
call themselves `journalists.' "Yours
faithfully, "GEORGE EDWARD CHALLENGER."
This was the
letter that I read aloud to
Tarp Henry, who
had come down early to hear the
result of my venture. His only
remark was, "There's some new
stuff, cuticura or something,
which is better than arnica." Some
people have such extraordinary
notions of humor.
It was nearly half-past ten
before I had received my message,
but a taxicab took me round in
good time for my appointment.
It was an imposing porticoed
house at which we stopped, and
the heavily-curtained windows
gave every indication of wealth
upon the part of this formidable
Professor. The door was opened
by an odd, swarthy, dried-up
person of uncertain age, with
a dark pilot jacket and brown
leather gaiters. I found afterwards
that he was the chauffeur, who
filled the gaps left by a succession
of fugitive butlers. He looked
me up and down with a searching
light blue eye.
"Expected?" he
asked.
"An appointment."
"Got your letter?"
I produced the envelope.
"Right!" He
seemed to be a person of few
words. Following
him down the passage I was suddenly
interrupted by a small woman,
who stepped out from what proved
to be the dining-room door. She
was a bright, vivacious, dark-eyed
lady, more French than English
in her type.
"One moment," she said. "You
can wait, Austin. Step in here,
sir. May I ask if you have met
my husband before?"
"No, madam,
I have not had the honor."
"Then I apologize
to you in advance. I must tell
you that
he is a perfectly impossible
person--absolutely impossible.
If you are forewarned you will
be the more ready to make allowances."
"It is most
considerate of you, madam."
"Get quickly
out of the room if he seems
inclined to be violent.
Don't wait to argue with him.
Several people have been injured
through doing that. Afterwards
there is a public scandal and
it reflects upon me and all of
us. I suppose it wasn't about
South America you wanted to see
him?"
I could not lie to a lady.
"Dear me! That
is his most dangerous subject.
You won't
believe a word he says--I'm sure
I don't wonder. But don't tell
him so, for it makes him very
violent. Pretend to believe him,
and you may get through all right.
Remember he believes it himself.
Of that you may be assured. A
more honest man never lived.
Don't wait any longer or he may
suspect. If you find him dangerous--really
dangerous--ring the bell and
hold him off until I come. Even
at his worst I can usually control
him."
With these encouraging words
the lady handed me over to the
taciturn Austin, who had waited
like a bronze statue of discretion
during our short interview, and
I was conducted to the end of
the passage. There was a tap
at a door, a bull's bellow from
within, and I was face to face
with the Professor.
He sat in a rotating chair
behind a broad table, which was
covered with books, maps, and
diagrams. As I entered, his seat
spun round to face me. His appearance
made me gasp. I was prepared
for something strange, but not
for so overpowering a personality
as this. It was his size which
took one's breath away--his size
and his imposing presence. His
head was enormous, the largest
I have ever seen upon a human
being. I am sure that his top-hat,
had I ever ventured to don it,
would have slipped over me entirely
and rested on my shoulders. He
had the face and beard which
I associate with an Assyrian
bull; the former florid, the
latter so black as almost to
have a suspicion of blue, spade-shaped
and rippling down over his chest.
The hair was peculiar, plastered
down in front in a long, curving
wisp over his massive forehead.
The eyes were blue-gray under
great black tufts, very clear,
very critical, and very masterful.
A huge spread of shoulders and
a chest like a barrel were the
other parts of him which appeared
above the table, save for two
enormous hands covered with long
black hair. This and a bellowing,
roaring, rumbling voice made
up my first impression of the
notorious Professor Challenger.
"Well?" said he, with a most
insolent stare. "What now?"
I must keep up my deception
for at least a little time longer,
otherwise here was evidently
an end of the interview.
"You were good enough to give
me an appointment, sir," said
I, humbly, producing his envelope.
He took my letter from his
desk and laid it out before him.
"Oh, you are
the young person who cannot
understand plain English,
are you? My general conclusions
you are good enough to approve,
as I understand?"
"Entirely, sir--entirely!" I
was very emphatic.
"Dear me! That strengthens
my position very much, does it
not? Your age and appearance
make your support doubly valuable.
Well, at least you are better
than that herd of swine in Vienna,
whose gregarious grunt is, however,
not more offensive than the isolated
effort of the British hog." He
glared at me as the present representative
of the beast.
"They seem to have behaved
abominably," said I.
"I assure you
that I can fight my own battles,
and that I have
no possible need of your sympathy.
Put me alone, sir, and with my
back to the wall. G. E. C. is
happiest then. Well, sir, let
us do what we can to curtail
this visit, which can hardly
be agreeable to you, and is inexpressibly
irksome to me. You had, as I
have been led to believe, some
comments to make upon the proposition
which I advanced in my thesis."
There was a
brutal directness about his
methods which made
evasion difficult. I must still
make play and wait for a better
opening. It had seemed simple
enough at a distance. Oh, my
Irish wits, could they not help
me now, when I needed help so
sorely? He transfixed me with
two sharp, steely eyes. "Come,
come!" he rumbled.
"I am, of course, a mere student," said
I, with a fatuous smile, "hardly
more, I might say, than an earnest
inquirer. At the same time, it
seemed to me that you were a
little severe upon Weissmann
in this matter. Has not the general
evidence since that date tended
to--well, to strengthen his position?"
"What evidence?" He
spoke with a menacing calm.
"Well, of course,
I am aware that there is not
any what you
might call DEFINITE evidence.
I alluded merely to the trend
of modern thought and the general
scientific point of view, if
I might so express it."
He leaned forward with great
earnestness.
"I suppose you are aware," said
he, checking off points upon
his fingers, "that the cranial
index is a constant factor?"
"Naturally," said
I.
"And that telegony
is still sub judice?"
"Undoubtedly."
"And that the
germ plasm is different from
the parthenogenetic
egg?"
"Why, surely!" I
cried, and gloried in my own
audacity.
"But what does that prove?" he
asked, in a gentle, persuasive
voice.
"Ah, what indeed?" I murmured. "What
does it prove?"
"Shall I tell you?" he
cooed.
"Pray do."
"It proves," he roared, with
a sudden blast of fury, "that
you are the damnedest imposter
in London--a vile, crawling journalist,
who has no more science than
he has decency in his composition!"
He had sprung to his feet with
a mad rage in his eyes. Even
at that moment of tension I found
time for amazement at the discovery
that he was quite a short man,
his head not higher than my shoulder--a
stunted Hercules whose tremendous
vitality had all run to depth,
breadth, and brain.
"Gibberish!" he cried, leaning
forward, with his fingers on
the table and his face projecting. "That's
what I have been talking to you,
sir--scientific gibberish! Did
you think you could match cunning
with me--you with your walnut
of a brain? You think you are
omnipotent, you infernal scribblers,
don't you? That your praise can
make a man and your blame can
break him? We must all bow to
you, and try to get a favorable
word, must we? This man shall
have a leg up, and this man shall
have a dressing down! Creeping
vermin, I know you! You've got
out of your station. Time was
when your ears were clipped.
You've lost your sense of proportion.
Swollen gas-bags! I'll keep you
in your proper place. Yes, sir,
you haven't got over G. E. C.
There's one man who is still
your master. He warned you off,
but if you WILL come, by the
Lord you do it at your own risk.
Forfeit, my good Mr. Malone,
I claim forfeit! You have played
a rather dangerous game, and
it strikes me that you have lost
it."
"Look here, sir," said I, backing
to the door and opening it; "you
can be as abusive as you like.
But there is a limit. You shall
not assault me."
"Shall I not?" He was slowly
advancing in a peculiarly menacing
way, but he stopped now and put
his big hands into the side-pockets
of a rather boyish short jacket
which he wore. "I have thrown
several of you out of the house.
You will be the fourth or fifth.
Three pound fifteen each--that
is how it averaged. Expensive,
but very necessary. Now, sir,
why should you not follow your
brethren? I rather think you
must." He resumed his unpleasant
and stealthy advance, pointing
his toes as he walked, like a
dancing master.
I could have bolted for the
hall door, but it would have
been too ignominious. Besides,
a little glow of righteous anger
was springing up within me. I
had been hopelessly in the wrong
before, but this man's menaces
were putting me in the right.
"I'll trouble
you to keep your hands off,
sir. I'll not stand
it."
"Dear me!" His black moustache
lifted and a white fang twinkled
in a sneer. "You won't stand
it, eh?"
"Don't be such a fool, Professor!" I
cried. "What can you hope for?
I'm fifteen stone, as hard as
nails, and play center three-quarter
every Saturday for the London
Irish. I'm not the man----"
It was at that moment that
he rushed me. It was lucky that
I had opened the door, or we
should have gone through it.
We did a Catharine-wheel together
down the passage. Somehow we
gathered up a chair upon our
way, and bounded on with it towards
the street. My mouth was full
of his beard, our arms were locked,
our bodies intertwined, and that
infernal chair radiated its legs
all round us. The watchful Austin
had thrown open the hall door.
We went with a back somersault
down the front steps. I have
seen the two Macs attempt something
of the kind at the halls, but
it appears to take some practise
to do it without hurting oneself.
The chair went to matchwood at
the bottom, and we rolled apart
into the gutter. He sprang to
his feet, waving his fists and
wheezing like an asthmatic.
"Had enough?" he
panted.
"You infernal bully!" I
cried, as I gathered myself
together.
Then and there we should have
tried the thing out, for he was
effervescing with fight, but
fortunately I was rescued from
an odious situation. A policeman
was beside us, his notebook in
his hand.
"What's all this? You ought
to be ashamed" said the policeman.
It was the most rational remark
which I had heard in Enmore Park. "Well," he
insisted, turning to me, "what
is it, then?"
"This man attacked me," said
I.
"Did you attack him?" asked
the policeman.
The Professor breathed hard
and said nothing.
"It's not the first time, either," said
the policeman, severely, shaking
his head. "You were in trouble
last month for the same thing.
You've blackened this young man's
eye. Do you give him in charge,
sir?"
I relented.
"No," said I, "I
do not."
"What's that?" said
the policeman.
"I was to blame
myself. I intruded upon him.
He gave me fair warning."
The policeman snapped up his
notebook.
"Don't let us have any more
such goings-on," said he. "Now,
then! Move on, there, move on!" This
to a butcher's boy, a maid, and
one or two loafers who had collected.
He clumped heavily down the street,
driving this little flock before
him. The Professor looked at
me, and there was something humorous
at the back of his eyes.
"Come in!" said he. "I've
not done with you yet."
The speech had a sinister sound,
but I followed him none the less
into the house. The man-servant,
Austin, like a wooden image,
closed the door behind us.
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