"No, it's not what you might call 'earty," said Austin, shaking his headand glancing up at the deplorable placard. "It wouldn't look well in aChristmas card. I beg your pardon, sir, for I haven't spoke as much asthis for many a long year, but to-day my feelings seem to 'ave got thebetter of me. 'E can sack me till 'e's blue in the face, but I ain'tgoing, and that's flat. I'm 'is man and 'e's my master, and so it willbe, I expect, to the end of the chapter."
We had passed between the white posts of a gate and up a curving drive,lined with rhododendron bushes. Beyond stood a low brick house, pickedout with white woodwork, very comfortable and pretty. Mrs. Challenger, asmall, dainty, smiling figure, stood in the open doorway to welcome us.
"Well, my dear," said Challenger, bustling out of the car, "here are ourvisitors. It is something new for us to have visitors, is it not? Nolove lost between us and our neighbors, is there? If they could get ratpoison into our baker's cart, I expect it would be there."
"It's dreadful--dreadful!" cried the lady, between laughter and tears."George is always quarreling with everyone. We haven't a friend on thecountryside."
"It enables me to concentrate my attention upon my incomparable wife,"said Challenger, passing his short, thick arm round her waist. Picture agorilla and a gazelle, and you have the pair of them. "Come, come, thesegentlemen are tired from the journey, and luncheon should be ready. HasSarah returned?"
The lady shook her head ruefully, and the Professor laughed loudly andstroked his beard in his masterful fashion.
"Austin," he cried, "when you have put up the car you will kindly helpyour mistress to lay the lunch. Now, gentlemen, will you please stepinto my study, for there are one or two very urgent things which I amanxious to say to you."
Chapter II
THE TIDE OF DEATH
As we crossed the hall the telephone-bell rang, and we were theinvoluntary auditors of Professor Challenger's end of the ensuingdialogue. I say "we," but no one within a hundred yards could havefailed to hear the booming of that monstrous voice, which reverberatedthrough the house. His answers lingered in my mind.
"Yes, yes, of course, it is I.... Yes, certainly, _the_ ProfessorChallenger, the famous Professor, who else?... Of course, every word ofit, otherwise I should not have written it.... I shouldn't besurprised.... There is every indication of it.... Within a day or so atthe furthest.... Well, I can't help that, can I?... Very unpleasant, nodoubt, but I rather fancy it will affect more important people than you.There is no use whining about it.... No, I couldn't possibly. You musttake your chance.... That's enough, sir. Nonsense! I have somethingmore important to do than to listen to such twaddle."
He shut off with a crash and led us upstairs into a large airy apartmentwhich formed his study. On the great mahogany desk seven or eightunopened telegrams were lying.
"Really," he said as he gathered them up, "I begin to think that it wouldsave my correspondents' money if I were to adopt a telegraphic address.Possibly 'Noah, Rotherfield,' would be the most appropriate."
As usual when he made an obscure joke, he leaned against the desk andbellowed in a paroxysm of laughter, his hands shaking so that he couldhardly open the envelopes.
"Noah! Noah!" he gasped, with a face of beetroot, while Lord John and Ismiled in sympathy and Summerlee, like a dyspeptic goat, wagged his headin sardonic disagreement. Finally Challenger, still rumbling andexploding, began to open his telegrams. The three of us stood in the bowwindow and occupied ourselves in admiring the magnificent view.
It was certainly worth looking at. The road in its gentle curves hadreally brought us to a considerable elevation--seven hundred feet, as weafterwards discovered. Challenger's house was on the very edge of thehill, and from its southern face, in which was the study window, onelooked across the vast stretch of the weald to where the gentle curves ofthe South Downs formed an undulating horizon. In a cleft of the hills ahaze of smoke marked the position of Lewes. Immediately at our feetthere lay a rolling plain of heather, with the long, vivid greenstretches of the Crowborough golf course, all dotted with the players. Alittle to the south, through an opening in the woods, we could see asection of the main line from London to Brighton. In the immediateforeground, under our very noses, was a small enclosed yard, in whichstood the car which had brought us from the station.
An ejaculation from Challenger caused us to turn. He had read histelegrams and had arranged them in a little methodical pile upon hisdesk. His broad, rugged face, or as much of it as was visible over thematted beard, was still deeply flushed, and he seemed to be under theinfluence of some strong excitement.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, in a voice as if he was addressing a publicmeeting, "this is indeed an interesting reunion, and it takes place underextraordinary--I may say unprecedented--circumstances. May I ask if youhave observed anything upon your journey from town?"
"The only thing which I observed," said Summerlee with a sour smile, "wasthat our young friend here has not improved in his manners during theyears that have passed. I am sorry to state that I have had to seriouslycomplain of his conduct in the train, and I should be wanting infrankness if I did not say that it has left a most unpleasant impressionin my mind."
"Well, well, we all get a bit prosy sometimes," said Lord John. "Theyoung fellah meant no real harm. After all, he's an International, so ifhe takes half an hour to describe a game of football he has more right todo it than most folk."
"Half an hour to describe a game!" I cried indignantly. "Why, it was youthat took half an hour with some long-winded story about a buffalo.Professor Summerlee will be my witness."
"I can hardly judge which of you was the most utterly wearisome," saidSummerlee. "I declare to you, Challenger, that I never wish to hear offootball or of buffaloes so long as I live."
"I have never said one word to-day about football," I protested.
Lord John gave a shrill whistle, and Summerlee shook his head sadly.
"So early in the day too," said he. "It is indeed deplorable. As I satthere in sad but thoughtful silence----"
"In silence!" cried Lord John. "Why, you were doin' a music-hall turn ofimitations all the way--more like a runaway gramophone than a man."
Summerlee drew himself up in bitter protest.
"You are pleased to be facetious, Lord John," said he with a face ofvinegar.
"Why, dash it all, this is clear madness," cried Lord John. "Each of usseems to know what the others did and none of us knows what he didhimself. Let's put it all together from the first. We got into afirst-class smoker, that's clear, ain't it? Then we began to quarrelover friend Challenger's letter in the Times."
"Oh, you did, did you?" rumbled our host, his eyelids beginning to droop.