"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.

I want to record our gratitude to all our friends on the Amazon for their great kindness and hospitality during our return journey. I especially thank Senhor Penalosa and the other Brazilian Government officials for the special arrangements that helped us on our way. I also thank Senhor Pereira of Para for his foresight. Thanks to him, we found a complete set of clothes ready for us in that town, so we could look presentable in the civilized world. It seemed a poor way to repay all the courtesy we received by deceiving our hosts and benefactors. But under the circumstances, we really had no alternative. I must tell them that they will only waste their time and money if they try to follow our trail. Even the names in our accounts have been changed. I am quite sure that no one, however carefully they study those accounts, 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.

We thought the excitement in the parts of South America we had to travel through was purely local. I can assure our friends in England that we had no idea what an uproar the mere rumor of our experiences had caused across Europe. We did not realize how keenly the scientific world and the general public were following events until the Ivernia was within five hundred miles of Southampton. Then wireless messages arrived from one newspaper and agency after another. They offered huge sums for a short reply telling them our actual results. However, we agreed not to make any definite statement to the press until we had met the members of the Zoological Institute. As delegates, it was clearly our duty to report first to the body that had commissioned our investigation. So, although we found Southampton full of reporters, we refused to give them any information. This naturally focused public attention on the meeting advertised for the evening of November 7th. The Zoological Hall, where our task had begun, proved far too small for the gathering. Only the Queen's Hall in Regent Street could accommodate it. It is now common knowledge that the organizers could have used the Albert Hall and still found it too small.

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.

The great meeting had been set for the second evening after our arrival. On the first evening, we each had pressing personal matters to attend to, no doubt. I cannot yet speak of mine. Perhaps, with more time, I may be able to think and even speak of it with less emotion. At the beginning of this story, I showed the reader what had motivated me. Perhaps it is only right that I should continue the story and show the results as well. And yet the day may come when I would not wish it otherwise. At least I was driven to take part in a wonderful adventure, and I cannot help being grateful 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:

And now I turn to the final, most momentous event of our adventure. I was trying to find the best way to describe it when I noticed the November 8 issue of my own Journal. It contained a full and excellent account by my friend and fellow reporter Macdona. What better way to tell the story than to copy his account, headlines and all? I admit the paper gave the event lavish coverage to celebrate its own initiative in sending a correspondent. But the other major daily papers gave it hardly less coverage. So here is friend Mac's report:

"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.

"The much-discussed meeting of the Zoological Institute was held last night in the greater Queen's Hall. It was called to hear the report of the Committee of Investigation. The committee had been sent to South America last year to test Professor Challenger's claims that prehistoric life still existed there. The meeting is likely to be a landmark in the history of Science. Its proceedings were so remarkable and sensational that no one present is likely to forget them." (Oh, fellow scribe Macdona, what a monstrous opening sentence!) "In theory, tickets were limited to members and their friends, but ‘friends’ is a flexible term. The proceedings were set to begin at eight o'clock, and long before then every part of the Great Hall was packed. "The general public, however, felt deeply and quite unreasonably aggrieved at being excluded. At a quarter to eight, they stormed the doors after a prolonged struggle. Several people were injured, including Inspector Scoble of H. Division, whose leg was unfortunately broken. This unjustified invasion filled every passage and even spilled into the space reserved for the Press. Afterward, an estimated five thousand people awaited the travelers' arrival. "When the travelers finally appeared, they took their places at the front of a platform. It already held all the leading scientists, not only from this country, but also from France and Germany. Sweden was also represented by Professor Sergius, the famous Zoologist from the University of Upsala. The entrance of the four heroes of the occasion prompted a remarkable welcome. The entire audience rose and cheered for several minutes. "A sharp observer might, however, have noticed some signs of dissent amid the applause. Such an observer might have concluded that the proceedings would be lively rather than harmonious. But surely no one could have foreseen the extraordinary turn they would actually 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!)

"Little needs to be said about the appearance of the four travelers, since their photographs have appeared in all the papers for some time. They show few signs of the hardships they are said to have endured. Professor Challenger's beard may be shaggier, Professor Summerlee's features more austere, and Lord John Roxton's figure thinner. All three may be more deeply tanned than when they left our shores, but each appeared to be in excellent health. As for our own representative, E. D. Malone, the well-known athlete and international Rugby player, he looks in perfect training. As he surveyed the crowd, a smile of good-humored contentment spread across his honest but plain 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.)

When the applause for the travelers died down, the audience returned to their seats. The chairman, the Duke of Durham, addressed the meeting. 'He would not,' he said, 'stand for more than a moment between this vast audience and the treat awaiting them. It was not for him to reveal what Professor Summerlee, the committee's spokesman, would say. But rumors were widespread that their expedition had been extraordinarily successful.' (Applause.) 'Apparently, the age of romance was not dead. The wildest imaginings of a novelist could meet the scientific investigations of a seeker of truth on common ground. Before sitting down, he would add only that he was glad the gentlemen had returned safe and sound. All of them would be glad, too, after such a difficult and dangerous task. For it could not be denied that a disaster on such an expedition would have caused an almost irreparable loss to zoological science.' (Great applause, which Professor Challenger was seen 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.)

"When Professor Summerlee rose to speak, the audience broke into another extraordinary display of enthusiasm. The applause erupted again at intervals throughout his speech. We will not print the full speech here, because our own special correspondent is publishing a complete account of the expedition's adventures as a supplement. A general outline will therefore be enough. Summerlee began by describing how their journey came about. He paid a generous tribute to his friend Professor Challenger and apologized for the disbelief with which Challenger's claims had been received. Those claims had now been fully vindicated. Summerlee then described the course of their journey, carefully withholding information that might help the public locate this remarkable plateau. He described their route in general terms, from the main river to the base of the cliffs. He then enthralled his listeners with an account of the difficulties they faced in their repeated attempts to climb the cliffs. Finally, he described how they succeeded in their desperate efforts, which cost the lives of their two devoted mixed-race servants." (Summerlee gave this astonishing account of events to avoid raising any questionable matters 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.

"After leading his audience in imagination to the summit, the Professor left them stranded there when their bridge fell. He then described both the horrors and the attractions of that remarkable land. He said little about personal adventures. Instead, he emphasized how much science had gained from observations of the plateau's wonderful animals, birds, insects, and plants. The plateau was especially rich in beetles and butterflies and moths. In a few weeks, the explorers had collected forty-six new species of beetle and ninety-four new species of butterfly and moth. Naturally, the public was most interested in the larger animals, especially those thought to have been extinct for ages. The Professor could list quite a few. But he had little doubt that the list would grow much longer once the place had been more thoroughly explored. He and his companions had seen at least a dozen creatures unknown to science, most of them from a distance. These would eventually be examined and classified. He gave the example of a snake whose shed skin was deep purple and fifty-one feet long. He also mentioned a white creature, thought to be a mammal, that glowed distinctly in the dark. There was also a large black moth whose bite the Indians believed to be highly poisonous. Apart from these entirely new forms of life, the plateau was rich in known prehistoric creatures. Some dated back to the early Jurassic period. Among them was the gigantic and grotesque stegosaurus, which Mr. Malone had seen once at a watering place by the lake. It had also appeared in the sketchbook of the adventurous American who had first entered this unknown world. The Professor also described the iguanodon and the pterodactyl, two of the first wonders they had encountered. He then thrilled the audience with an account of the terrible carnivorous dinosaurs. These had pursued members of the party on more than one occasion. They were the most formidable creatures the explorers had encountered. From there, he moved on to the huge and ferocious bird, the phororachus, and the great elk that still roams the plateau. But it was not until he outlined the mysteries of the central lake that the audience became fully interested and enthusiastic. One had to pinch oneself to be sure one was awake. Here was this sane, practical Professor, describing the lake's monstrous three-eyed fish-lizards and huge water-snakes in cool, measured tones. Next he spoke of the Indians and the extraordinary colony of anthropoid apes. These apes might be regarded as a step beyond the pithecanthropus of Java. They might therefore come closer than any known form to the hypothetical missing link. Finally, amid some laughter, he described Professor Challenger's ingenious but highly dangerous flying invention. He ended his memorable address with an account of how the committee finally found its 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.

"It had been hoped that the proceedings would end there. Professor Sergius of Upsala University had proposed a vote of thanks and congratulations, which was expected to be seconded and passed. But it soon became clear that things would not go so smoothly. There had been signs of opposition throughout the evening. Now Dr. James Illingworth of Edinburgh stood up in the center of the hall. Dr. Illingworth asked whether an amendment should be considered before a resolution.

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Yes, sir, if there must be an amendment.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Yes, sir, if there has to be an amendment.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, there must be an amendment.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, there must be a change.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Then let us take it at once.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Then let's take it now.'

"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?'

"PROFESSOR SUMMERLEE (jumping to his feet): 'May I explain, your Grace, that this man has been my personal enemy ever since our dispute in the Quarterly Journal of Science about the true nature of Bathybius?'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'I fear I cannot go into personal matters. Proceed.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'I'm afraid I can't discuss personal matters. Please continue.'

"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 could not be heard during parts of his speech because the explorers' friends protested so strongly. Some also tried to pull him down. But he was an enormous man with a very powerful voice. He made himself heard above the uproar and managed to finish his speech. From the moment he stood up, it was clear that he had friends and supporters in the hall. They were a minority of the audience, though. Most of the audience seemed attentive but neutral.

"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.

"Dr. Illingworth began by expressing his great respect for the scientific work of both Professor Challenger and Professor Summerlee. He deeply regretted that anyone had seen personal bias in his remarks. They were motivated entirely by his desire for scientific truth. In fact, his position was much the same as Professor Summerlee's at the last meeting. At that meeting, Professor Challenger had made certain claims that his colleague had questioned. Now this colleague came forward with the same claims and expected no one to question them. Was that reasonable? ('Yes,' 'No,' and a prolonged interruption. During it, Professor Challenger was heard from the Press box asking the chairman's permission to throw Dr. Illingworth into the street.) A year ago, one man had made certain claims. Now four men made different and more startling ones. Could this be final proof when the matters in question were so revolutionary and incredible? Recently, travelers had returned from unknown places with stories that had been accepted too readily. Was the London Zoological Institute going to put itself in that position? He admitted that the committee members were men of character. But human nature was very complex. Even professors might be led astray by a desire for fame. Like moths, we all love nothing more than fluttering in the light. Big-game hunters liked to be able to top their rivals' stories. Journalists, too, welcomed sensational scoops, even when imagination had to help the facts along. Each committee member had his own reason to make the most of his results. ('Shame! shame!') He had no wish to be offensive. ('You are!' and an interruption.) The support for these extraordinary stories was really very thin. What did it amount to? Some photographs. {Could photographs be accepted as evidence in this age of clever manipulation?} What else? There was a story of an escape and a descent by ropes, which prevented them from bringing back larger specimens. It was ingenious, but not convincing. Lord John Roxton was said to claim that he had the skull of a phororachus. All Dr. Illingworth could say was that he would like to see that skull.

"LORD JOHN ROXTON: 'Is this fellow calling me a liar?' (Uproar.)

"LORD JOHN ROXTON: 'Is this guy 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.'

"THE CHAIRMAN: 'Order! Order! Dr. Illingworth, please finish your remarks and propose 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.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Your Grace, I have more to say, but I accept your ruling. I therefore propose that we thank Professor Summerlee for his interesting address. However, the whole matter should be regarded as 'not proven' and referred back to a larger, 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 is hard to describe the confusion caused by this amendment. Many in the audience were outraged by this insult to the travelers. They shouted their objections, crying, 'Don't put it!' 'Withdraw!' 'Turn him out!' On the other hand, the dissatisfied members cheered for the amendment, shouting, 'Order!' 'Chair!' and 'Fair play!' It cannot be denied that there were quite a few of them. A fight broke out in the back rows. The medical students who crowded that part of the hall freely exchanged blows. Only the calming influence of the many women present prevented a full riot. Suddenly, however, there was a pause, then a hush, and then complete silence. Professor Challenger had risen to his feet. His appearance and manner are unusually striking. As he raised his hand for order, the whole audience settled down, ready to hear him speak.

"'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?'

"'Many of you will remember,' said Professor Challenger, 'that similar foolish and rude scenes took place at the last meeting where I was able to address you. Professor Summerlee was the chief offender then. Though he is now humbled and sorry, the matter cannot be entirely forgotten. Tonight I have heard similar, but even more offensive, opinions from the person who has just sat down. It takes a deliberate effort to lower myself to that person's mental level. But I will try to do so, in order to put to rest any reasonable doubt anyone could possibly have.' (Laughter and interruption.) 'Professor Summerlee, as head of the Committee of Investigation, has been asked to speak tonight. But I need hardly remind this audience that I am the real driving force behind this work. Any success must be credited mainly to me. I safely led these three gentlemen to the place I described. As you have heard, I convinced them that my earlier account was accurate. We had hoped that, on our return, no one would be so dense as to dispute our shared conclusions. But my previous experience warned me to bring proof that might convince a reasonable person. As Professor Summerlee explained, the ape-men interfered with our cameras when they ransacked our camp. Most of our negatives were ruined.' (Jeers, laughter, and 'Tell us another!' from the back.) 'I have mentioned the ape-men. I cannot help saying that some of the sounds I hear now vividly remind me of my experiences with those interesting creatures.' (Laughter.) 'Despite the destruction of so many priceless negatives, our collection still contains some photographs supporting our account. They show the conditions of life on the plateau. Did they accuse them of having forged these photographs?' (A voice, 'Yes,' and considerable interruption, which ended with several men being removed from the hall.) 'Experts could inspect the negatives. But what other evidence did they have? Given the conditions of their escape, they naturally could not bring much baggage. But they had saved Professor Summerlee's collections of butterflies and beetles, which contained 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.)

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (standing up): 'Our point is that such a collection could have been made in places other 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——'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'Of course, sir, we must defer to your scientific authority, although I admit the name is unfamiliar. Moving past the photographs and the insect collection, I come to the varied and accurate information we bring. It concerns matters that have never before been explained. For example, the domestic habits of the pterodactyl.' (A voice: 'Nonsense,' and uproar) 'I say, we can shed a great deal of light on the domestic habits of the pterodactyl. I can show you a picture from my portfolio, drawn from life, that would convince you...'"

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'No picture could convince us of anything.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'No picture could convince us of anything.'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'You would require to see the thing itself?'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'Would you need to see the thing itself?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Undoubtedly.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH: 'Without a doubt.'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'And you would accept that?'

"PROFESSOR CHALLENGER: 'And you would accept that?'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (laughing): 'Beyond a doubt.'

"DR. ILLINGWORTH (laughing): 'Without 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.

"It was at this point that the sensation of the evening occurred. It was so dramatic that it can never have been matched at a scientific gathering. Professor Challenger raised his hand as a signal. Our colleague, Mr. E. D. Malone, immediately got up and made his way to the back of the platform. A moment later he reappeared with a gigantic Black man. Between them they carried a large square packing case. It was clearly very heavy. They slowly carried it forward and placed it in front of the Professor's chair. The audience had fallen silent, and everyone was absorbed in the sight before them. Professor Challenger pulled off the sliding lid of the case. He peered inside and snapped his fingers several times. From the press seats, he could be heard saying in a coaxing voice, 'Come on, pretty, pretty!' A moment later, with a scratching, rattling sound, a most horrible and loathsome creature emerged and perched on the edge of the case. At that moment, the Duke of Durham unexpectedly fell into the orchestra. Even that could not distract the vast audience, who stared in terror. The creature's face looked like the wildest gargoyle a mad medieval builder could have imagined. It was malicious and horrible, with two small red eyes as bright as burning coals. Its long, savage mouth was half open, revealing a double row of shark-like teeth. Its shoulders were humped, and what looked like a faded gray shawl was draped around them. It was the devil of our childhood in person. The audience erupted. Someone screamed, two ladies in the front row fainted and fell from their chairs, and people on the platform generally moved to follow their chairman into the orchestra. For a moment, there was a danger of a general panic. Professor Challenger threw up his hands to quiet the commotion, but the movement alarmed the creature beside him. Its strange shawl suddenly unfurled, spread, and fluttered. It was a pair of leathery wings. Its owner grabbed for its legs, but he was too late to hold it. The creature had leaped from its perch and was circling slowly around the Queen's Hall. Its ten-foot wings made a dry, leathery flapping sound, while a putrid, insidious smell filled the room. People in the galleries cried out, alarmed as those glowing eyes and that murderous beak came near them. Their cries drove the creature into a frenzy. It flew faster and faster, beating against walls and chandeliers in blind terror. 'The window! For heaven's sake, shut that window!' roared the Professor from the platform. He danced about and wrung his hands in agony, fearing what might happen. Alas, his warning came too late! The creature beat and bumped along the wall like a huge moth inside a gas-lamp shade. In a moment, it found the opening, squeezed its hideous bulk through, and was gone. Professor Challenger fell back into his chair, his face buried in his hands. The audience gave one long, deep sigh of relief as they realized 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."

"Then, oh! How can anyone describe what happened next? The majority's overflowing excitement and the minority's powerful reaction combined into one great wave of enthusiasm. It rolled forward from the back of the hall, growing as it came. It swept over the orchestra, submerged the platform, and carried the four heroes away on its crest?" (Good for you, Mac!) "If the audience had not done them justice before, it surely made up for it now. Everyone was on their feet. Everyone was moving, shouting, and waving their arms. A tightly packed crowd of cheering men surrounded the four travelers. 'Lift them up! Lift them up!' cried a hundred voices. In a moment, four figures rose above the crowd. They struggled in vain to break free. They were held high in places of honor. The crowd around them was so dense that it would have been hard to put them down, even if anyone had wanted to. 'Regent Street! Regent Street!' voices called. The packed crowd swirled, and a slow stream of people headed for the door, carrying the four on their shoulders. Outside, the scene was extraordinary. No fewer than a hundred thousand people were waiting. The tightly packed crowd stretched from the far side of the Langham Hotel to Oxford Circus. A roar of cheers greeted the four adventurers as they appeared. They stood high above the people's heads beneath the bright electric lamps outside the hall. 'A procession! A procession!' the crowd cried. Packed tightly together, they set off, blocking the streets from side to side. They went along Regent Street, Pall Mall, St. James's Street, and Piccadilly. All traffic in central London was brought to a standstill. Many clashes were reported between the demonstrators and the police and taxi drivers. At last, after midnight, the four travelers were released at the entrance to Lord John Roxton's rooms in the Albany. The exuberant crowd sang 'They are Jolly Good Fellows' together, then ended their program with 'God Save the King.' So ended one of the most remarkable evenings London has seen in a long 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.

That is my friend Macdona's account. It is fairly accurate, though rather flowery. The main event was a bewildering surprise to the audience, but, I hardly need say, not to us. The reader will remember when I met Lord John Roxton. He was wearing his protective crinoline and had gone to fetch the "Devil's chick", as he called it, for Professor Challenger. I have also hinted at the trouble the Professor's baggage caused us when we left the plateau. If I had described our voyage, I could have said a great deal about the trouble of coaxing our filthy companion to eat putrid fish. I have said little about it until now for a reason, of course. The Professor was determined that no rumor of the unanswerable argument we carried should leak out. He wanted to keep it secret until the moment came to prove his enemies wrong.

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.

A word about the fate of the London pterodactyl. Nothing is certain on this point. Two frightened women reported that it landed on the roof of the Queen's Hall. They said it stayed there for several hours, like a diabolical statue. The next day, the evening papers reported that Private Miles of the Coldstream Guards had been court-martialed. He had left his post without permission while on duty outside Marlborough House. Private Miles said he had looked up and suddenly seen the devil between him and the moon. He had then dropped his rifle and fled down the Mall. The Court did not accept his account, yet it may have a direct bearing on the question. The only other evidence I can offer comes from the log of the SS. Friesland, a Dutch-American liner. It reports that, at nine the next morning, something passed the ship, heading southwest at tremendous speed. It looked like a cross between a flying goat and a monstrous bat. At the time, Start Point was ten miles behind the ship and to its right. If its homing instinct set it on the right course, then there can be no doubt about its fate. Somewhere in the vast Atlantic, the last European pterodactyl met 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.

And Gladys, oh, my Gladys! The mysterious lake named for her will now be renamed the Central. She will never have immortality through me. Had I not always seen something hard in her nature? Even when I was proud to do as she asked, had I not felt it was a poor kind of love that could drive a lover to his death, or risk it? Had I not, in my most honest thoughts, looked past her beautiful face and into her soul? Those thoughts kept coming back, and I kept dismissing them. Yet had I not seen the twin shadows of selfishness and fickleness lurking there? Did she love heroic and spectacular deeds for their own noble sake? Or did she love them for the glory they might bring her, without any effort or sacrifice on her part? Or are these thoughts merely the useless wisdom that comes after the event? It was the shock of my life. For a moment, it turned me into a cynic. But as I write, a week has already passed. We have had our momentous interview with Lord John Roxton and, well, perhaps things could 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.

Let me tell it in a few words. No letter or telegram had reached me in Southampton. I arrived at the little villa in Streatham around ten that night, frantic with worry. Was she dead or alive? What had become of my nightly dreams? I had dreamed of her open arms, her smiling face, and her praise for the man who had risked his life to satisfy her whim. I had already come down from the heights and landed firmly on earth. Yet a good explanation might still lift me back to the clouds. I rushed down the garden path and hammered on the door. I heard Gladys's voice inside, pushed past the staring maid, and strode into the sitting room. She was sitting on a low sofa beneath the shaded floor lamp by the piano. In three steps I crossed the room and took both her hands in mine.

"Gladys!" I cried, "Gladys!"

"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.

She looked up, her face full of amazement. She had changed in some subtle way. The look in her eyes, her hard upward stare, and the set of her lips were new to me. She pulled her hands away.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"What do you mean?" she said.

"Gladys!" I cried. "What is the matter? You are my Gladys, are you not—little Gladys Hungerton?"

"Gladys!" I cried. "What's wrong? You're my Gladys, aren't you? Little Gladys Hungerton?"

"No," said she, "I am Gladys Potts. Let me introduce you to my husband."

"No," she said, "I'm 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.

How absurd life is! I found myself automatically bowing and shaking hands with a small, red-haired man. He was curled up in the deep armchair that had once been reserved for me. We bowed and grinned at each other.

"Father lets us stay here. We are getting our house ready," said Gladys.

"Father lets us stay here. We are getting our house ready," said Gladys.

"Oh, yes," said I.

"Oh, yes," I said.

"You didn't get my letter at Para, then?"

"You didn't get my letter at Para, then?"

"No, I got no letter."

"No, I got no letter."

"Oh, what a pity! It would have made all clear."

"Oh, what a pity! It would have made everything clear."

"It is quite clear," said I.

"It's quite clear," I said.

"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?"

"I've told William all about you," she said. "We have no secrets. I'm so sorry about it. But it couldn't have been very deep, could it? Not if you could go to the other end of the world and leave me here alone. You're not upset, are you?"

"No, no, not at all. I think I'll go."

"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.

"Have something to eat or drink," said the little man. Then he added in a confidential tone, "It's always like this, ain't it? And it has to be, unless you had polygamy the other way around. You understand." He laughed like an idiot as I headed 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.

I was through it when a sudden, strange impulse made me go back to my successful rival. He looked nervously at the electric bell button.

"Will you answer a question?" I asked.

"Will you answer a question?" I asked.

"Well, within reason," said he.

"Well, within reason," he said.

"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?"

"How did you do it? Did you search for hidden treasure, discover a pole, serve on a pirate ship, or fly across the Channel? Or what? Where is that air of adventure? How did you get it?"

He stared at me with a hopeless expression upon his vacuous, good-natured, scrubby little face.

He stared at me with a hopeless expression on his blank, good-natured, scruffy little face.

"Don't you think all this is a little too personal?" he said.

"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?"

"Well, just one question," I cried. "What are you? What do you do for a living?"

"I am a solicitor's clerk," said he. "Second man at Johnson and Merivale's, 41 Chancery Lane."

"I'm a solicitor's clerk," he said. "I'm second in command 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.

"Good night!" I said, and disappeared into the darkness, like all miserable, heartbroken heroes. Grief, rage, and laughter simmered inside 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.

One more little scene, and I am done. Last night we all had dinner at Lord John Roxton's rooms. Afterwards, we sat together, smoked like good friends, and talked over our adventures. It was strange to see those familiar faces and figures in such different surroundings. There was Challenger, with his condescending smile, drooping eyelids, intolerant eyes, and aggressive beard. His huge chest swelled and puffed as he lectured Summerlee. And there was Summerlee, too, with his short briar pipe between his thin moustache and gray goatee. He leaned forward eagerly, his worn face animated as he questioned everything Challenger said. Finally, there was our host, with his rugged, eagle-like face and cold, glacier-blue eyes. Deep in those eyes there was always a glimmer of mischief and humor. That is the last picture of them that I 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.

After supper, Lord John Roxton had something to say to us in his private room. The room glowed pink and was filled with countless trophies. He took an old cigar box from a cupboard and set it on the table before him.

"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.

"There's one thing," he said, "that maybe I should have spoken about before. But I wanted to know a little more clearly where I stood. No use raising hopes and letting them down again. But it's facts, not hopes, with us now. You may remember the day we found the pterodactyl rookery in the swamp, what? Well, something about the lay of the land caught my attention. Perhaps you missed it, 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."

"Well, now, I've only ever known one place in the whole world that was a volcanic vent of blue clay. That was the great De Beers Diamond Mine of Kimberley, you see? So I started thinking about diamonds. I rigged up a contraption to keep those stinking beasts away. Then I spent a happy day there digging with a small spade. 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.

He opened his cigar box and tipped it over, pouring about twenty or thirty rough stones onto the table. They ranged in size from beans to chestnuts.

"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."

"Perhaps you think I should have told you then. Well, I should have. But I know there are plenty of traps for the unwary. Stones can be any size and still be worth little if their color and consistency are wrong. So I brought them back. On my first day home, I took one 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.

He took a small box from his pocket and poured out a beautiful, glittering diamond. It was one of the finest stones 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?"

"There's the result," he said. "He values the lot at at least two hundred thousand pounds. Of course, we share it equally. I won't hear of anything 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."

"If you really stick to your generous offer," said the Professor, "I would start a private museum. That has been a dream of mine for a long time."

"And you, Summerlee?"

"And you, Summerlee?"

"I would retire from teaching, and so find time for my final classification of the chalk fossils."

"I would retire from teaching so I could finish classifying 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."

"I'll use my own," said Lord John Roxton, "to equip a well-organized expedition and take another look at the dear old plateau. As for you, young fellow, you'll spend yours getting married, of course."

"Not just yet," said I, with a rueful smile. "I think, if you will have me, that I would rather go with you."

"Not just yet," I said with a regretful smile. "I think I'd rather go with you, if you'll have me."

Lord Roxton said nothing, but a brown hand was stretched out to me across the table.

Lord Roxton said nothing, but he reached out to me across the table with a brown hand.