The Poison Belt (Professor Challenger 2)

"Have you seen his letter in the Times?" I asked.

"What was it?"

"Stuff and nonsense!" said Summerlee harshly.

"Well, it's at the bottom of this oxygen business, or I am mistaken,"said I.

"Stuff and nonsense!" cried Summerlee again with quite unnecessa

ryviolence. We had all got into a first-class smoker, and he had alreadylit the short and charred old briar pipe which seemed to singe the end ofhis long, aggressive nose.

"Friend Challenger is a clever man," said he with great vehemence. "Noone can deny it. It's a fool that denies it. Look at his hat. There'sa sixty-ounce brain inside it--a big engine, running smooth, and turningout clean work. Show me the engine-house and I'll tell you the size ofthe engine. But he is a born charlatan--you've heard me tell him so tohis face--a born charlatan, with a kind of dramatic trick of jumping intothe limelight. Things are quiet, so friend Challenger sees a chance toset the public talking about him. You don't imagine that he seriouslybelieves all this nonsense about a change in the ether and a danger tothe human race? Was ever such a cock-and-bull story in this life?"

He sat like an old white raven, croaking and shaking with sardoniclaughter.

A wave of anger passed through me as I listened to Summerlee. It wasdisgraceful that he should speak thus of the leader who had been thesource of all our fame and given us such an experience as no men haveever enjoyed. I had opened my mouth to utter some hot retort, when LordJohn got before me.

"You had a scrap once before with old man Challenger," said he sternly,"and you were down and out inside ten seconds. It seems to me, ProfessorSummerlee, he's beyond your class, and the best you can do with him is towalk wide and leave him alone."

"Besides," said I, "he has been a good friend to every one of us.Whatever his faults may be, he is as straight as a line, and I don'tbelieve he ever speaks evil of his comrades behind their backs."

"Well said, young fellah-my-lad," said Lord John Roxton. Then, with akindly smile, he slapped Professor Summerlee upon his shoulder. "Come,Herr Professor, we're not going to quarrel at this time of day. We'veseen too much together. But keep off the grass when you get nearChallenger, for this young fellah and I have a bit of a weakness for theold dear."

But Summerlee was in no humour for compromise. His face was screwed upin rigid disapproval, and thick curls of angry smoke rolled up from hispipe.

"As to you, Lord John Roxton," he creaked, "your opinion upon a matter ofscience is of as much value in my eyes as my views upon a new type ofshot-gun would be in yours. I have my own judgment, sir, and I use it inmy own way. Because it has misled me once, is that any reason why Ishould accept without criticism anything, however far-fetched, which thisman may care to put forward? Are we to have a Pope of science, withinfallible decrees laid down _ex cathedra_, and accepted without questionby the poor humble public? I tell you, sir, that I have a brain of myown and that I should feel myself to be a snob and a slave if I did notuse it. If it pleases you to believe this rigmarole about ether andFraunhofer's lines upon the spectrum, do so by all means, but do not askone who is older and wiser than yourself to share in your folly. Is itnot evident that if the ether were affected to the degree which hemaintains, and if it were obnoxious to human health, the result of itwould already be apparent upon ourselves?" Here he laughed withuproarious triumph over his own argument. "Yes, sir, we should alreadybe very far from our normal selves, and instead of sitting quietlydiscussing scientific problems in a railway train we should be showingactual symptoms of the poison which was working within us. Where do wesee any signs of this poisonous cosmic disturbance? Answer me that, sir!Answer me that! Come, come, no evasion! I pin you to an answer!"

I felt more and more angry. There was something very irritating andaggressive in Summerlee's demeanour.

"I think that if you knew more about the facts you might be less positivein your opinion," said I.

Summerlee took his pipe from his mouth and fixed me with a stony stare.

"Pray what do you mean, sir, by that somewhat impertinent observation?"

"I mean that when I was leaving the office the news editor told me that atelegram had come in confirming the general illness of the Sumatranatives, and adding that the lights had not been lit in the Straits ofSunda."

"Really, there should be some limits to human folly!" cried Summerlee ina positive fury. "Is it possible that you do not realize that ether, iffor a moment we adopt Challenger's preposterous supposition, is auniversal substance which is the same here as at the other side of theworld? Do you for an instant suppose that there is an English ether anda Sumatran ether? Perhaps you imagine that the ether of Kent is in someway superior to the ether of Surrey, through which this train is nowbearing us. There really are no bounds to the credulity and ignorance ofthe average layman. Is it conceivable that the ether in Sumatra shouldbe so deadly as to cause total insensibility at the very time when theether here has had no appreciable effect upon us whatever? Personally, Ican truly say that I never felt stronger in body or better balanced inmind in my life."

"That may be. I don't profess to be a scientific man," said I, "though Ihave heard somewhere that the science of one generation is usually thefallacy of the next. But it does not take much common sense to see that,as we seem to know so little about ether, it might be affected by somelocal conditions in various parts of the world and might show an effectover there which would only develop later with us."

"With 'might' and 'may' you can prove anything," cried Summerleefuriously. "Pigs may fly. Yes, sir, pigs _may_ fly--but they don't. Itis not worth arguing with you. Challenger has filled you with hisnonsense and you are both incapable of reason. I had as soon layarguments before those railway cushions."

"I must say, Professor Summerlee, that your manners do not seem to haveimproved since I last had the pleasure of meeting you," said Lord Johnseverely.

"You lordlings are not accustomed to hear the truth," Summerlee answeredwith a bitter smile. "It comes as a bit of a shock, does it not, whensomeone makes you realize that your title leaves you none the less a veryignorant man?"

"Upon my word, sir," said Lord John, very stern and rigid, "if you were ayounger man you would not dare to speak to me in so offensive a fashion."

Summerlee thrust out his chin, with its little wagging tuft of goateebeard.

"I would have you know, sir, that, young or old, there has never been atime in my life when I was afraid to speak my mind to an ignorantcoxcomb--yes, sir, an ignorant coxcomb, if you had as many titles asslaves could invent and fools could adopt."

For a moment Lord John's eyes blazed, and then, with a tremendous effort,he mastered his anger and leaned back in his seat with arms folded and abitter smile upon his face. To me all this was dreadful and deplorable.Like a wave, the memory of the past swept over me, the good comradeship,the happy, adventurous days--all that we had suffered and worked for andwon. That it should have come to this--to insults and abuse! Suddenly Iwas sobbing--sobbing in loud, gulping, uncontrollable sobs which refusedto be concealed. My companions looked at me in surprise. I covered myface with my hands.

"It's all right," said I. "Only--only it _is_ such a pity!"

"You're ill, young fellah, that's what's amiss with you," said Lord John."I thought you were queer from the first."