The Poison Belt (Professor Challenger 2) - Page 9

"Well, young fellah, when you do you'll learn that once fairly out on around, it would take the crack of doom to stop a true golfer. Halloa!There's that telephone-bell again."

From time to time during and after lunch the high, insistent ring hadsummoned the Professor. He gave us the news as it came through to him ina few curt sentences. Such terrific items had never been registered inthe world's history before. The great shadow was creeping up from thesouth like a rising tide of death. Egypt had gone through its deliriumand was now comatose. Spain and Portugal, after a wild frenzy in whichthe Clericals and the Anarchists had fought most desperately, were nowfallen silent. No cable messages were received any longer from SouthAmerica. In North America the southern states, after some terribleracial rioting, had succumbed to the poison. North of Maryland theeffect was not yet marked, and in Canada it was hardly perceptible.Belgium, Holland, and Denmark had each in turn been affected. Despairingmessages were flashing from every quarter to the great centres oflearning, to the chemists and the doctors of world-wide repute, imploringtheir advice. The astronomers too were deluged with inquiries. Nothingcould be done. The thing was universal and beyond our human knowledge orcontrol. It was death--painless but inevitable--death for young and old,for weak and strong, for rich and poor, without hope or possibility ofescape. Such was the news which, in scattered, distracted messages, thetelephone had brought us. The great cities already knew their fate andso far as we could gather were preparing to meet it with dignity andresignation. Yet here were our golfers and laborers like the lambs whogambol under the shadow of the knife. It seemed amazing. And yet howcould they know? It had all come upon us in one giant stride. What wasthere in the morning paper to alarm them? And now it was but three inthe afternoon. Even as we looked some rumour seemed to have spread, forwe saw the reapers hurrying from the fields. Some of the golfers werereturning to the club-house. They were running as if taking refuge froma shower. Their little caddies trailed behind them. Others werecontinuing their game. The nurse had turned and was pushing herperambulator hurriedly up the hill again. I noticed that she had herhand to her brow. The cab had stopped and the tired horse, with his headsunk to his knees, was resting. Above there was a perfect summersky--one huge vault of unbroken blue, save for a few fleecy white cloudsover the distant downs. If the human race must die to-day, it was atleast upon a glorious death-bed. And yet all that gentle loveliness ofnature made this terrific and wholesale destruction the more pitiable andawful. Surely it was too goodly a residence that we should be soswiftly, so ruthlessly, evicted from it!

But I have said that the telephone-bell had rung once more. Suddenly Iheard Challenger's tremendous voice from the hall.

"Malone!" he cried. "You are wanted."

I rushed down to the instrument. It was McArdle speaking from London.

"That you, Mr. Malone?" cried his familiar voice. "Mr. Malone, there areterrible goings-on in London. For God's sake, see if ProfessorChallenger can suggest anything that can be done."

"He can suggest nothing, sir," I answered. "He regards the crisis asuniversal and inevitable. We have some oxygen here, but it can onlydefer our fate for a few hours."

"Oxygen!" cried the agonized voice. "There is no time to get any. Theoffice has been a perfect pandemonium ever since you left in the morning.Now half of the staff are insensible. I am weighed down with heavinessmyself. From my window I can see the people lying thick in Fleet Street.The traffic is all held up. Judging by the last telegrams, the wholeworld----"

His voice had been sinking, and suddenly stopped. An instant later Iheard through the telephone a muffled thud, as if his head had fallenforward on the desk.

"Mr. McArdle!" I cried. "Mr. McArdle!"

There was no answer. I knew as I replaced the receiver that I shouldnever hear his voice again.

At that instant, just as I took a step backwards from the telephone, thething was on us. It was as if we were bathers, up to our shoulders inwater, who suddenly are submerged by a rolling wave. An invisible handseemed to have quietly closed round my throat and to be gently pressingthe life from me. I was conscious of immense oppression upon my chest,great tightness within my head, a loud singing in my ears, and brightflashes before my eyes. I staggered to the balustrades of the stair. Atthe same moment, rushing and snorting like a wounded buffalo, Challengerdashed past me, a terrible vision, with red-purple face, engorged eyes,and bristling hair. His little wife, insensible to all appearance, wasslung over his great shoulder, and he blundered and thundered up thestair, scrambling and tripping, but carrying himself and her throughsheer will-force through that mephitic atmosphere to the haven oftemporary safety. At the sight of his effort I too rushed up the steps,clambering, falling, clutching at the rail, until I tumbled halfsenseless upon by face on the upper landing. Lord John's fingers ofsteel were in the collar of my coat, and a moment later I was stretchedupon my back, unable to speak or move, on the boudoir carpet. The womanlay beside me, and Summerlee was bunched in a chair by the window, hishead nearly touching his knees. As in a dream I saw Challenger, like amonstrous beetle, crawling slowly across the floor, and a moment later Iheard the gentle hissing of the escaping oxygen. Challenger breathed twoor three times with enormous gulps, his lungs roaring as he drew in thevital gas.

"It works!" he cried exultantly. "My reasoning has been justified!" Hewas up on his feet again, alert and strong. With a tube in his hand herushed over to his wife and held it to her face. In a few seconds shemoaned, stirred, and sat up. He turned to me, and I felt the ti

de oflife stealing warmly through my arteries. My reason told me that it wasbut a little respite, and yet, carelessly as we talk of its value, everyhour of existence now seemed an inestimable thing. Never have I knownsuch a thrill of sensuous joy as came with that freshet of life. Theweight fell away from my lungs, the band loosened from my brow, a sweetfeeling of peace and gentle, languid comfort stole over me. I laywatching Summerlee revive under the same remedy, and finally Lord Johntook his turn. He sprang to his feet and gave me a hand to rise, whileChallenger picked up his wife and laid her on the settee.

"Oh, George, I am so sorry you brought me back," she said, holding him bythe hand. "The door of death is indeed, as you said, hung withbeautiful, shimmering curtains; for, once the choking feeling had passed,it was all unspeakably soothing and beautiful. Why have you dragged meback?"

"Because I wish that we make the passage together. We have been togetherso many years. It would be sad to fall apart at the supreme moment."

For a moment in his tender voice I caught a glimpse of a new Challenger,something very far from the bullying, ranting, arrogant man who hadalternately amazed and offended his generation. Here in the shadow ofdeath was the innermost Challenger, the man who had won and held awoman's love. Suddenly his mood changed and he was our strong captainonce again.

"Alone of all mankind I saw and foretold this catastrophe," said he witha ring of exultation and scientific triumph in his voice. "As to you, mygood Summerlee, I trust your last doubts have been resolved as to themeaning of the blurring of the lines in the spectrum and that you will nolonger contend that my letter in the Times was based upon a delusion."

For once our pugnacious colleague was deaf to a challenge. He could butsit gasping and stretching his long, thin limbs, as if to assure himselfthat he was still really upon this planet. Challenger walked across tothe oxygen tube, and the sound of the loud hissing fell away till it wasthe most gentle sibilation.

"We must husband our supply of the gas," said he. "The atmosphere of theroom is now strongly hyperoxygenated, and I take it that none of us feelany distressing symptoms. We can only determine by actual experimentswhat amount added to the air will serve to neutralize the poison. Let ussee how that will do."

We sat in silent nervous tension for five minutes or more, observing ourown sensations. I had just begun to fancy that I felt the constrictionround my temples again when Mrs. Challenger called out from the sofa thatshe was fainting. Her husband turned on more gas.

"In pre-scientific days," said he, "they used to keep a white mouse inevery submarine, as its more delicate organization gave signs of avicious atmosphere before it was perceived by the sailors. You, my dear,will be our white mouse. I have now increased the supply and you arebetter."

"Yes, I am better."

"Possibly we have hit upon the correct mixture. When we have ascertainedexactly how little will serve we shall be able to compute how long weshall be able to exist. Unfortunately, in resuscitating ourselves wehave already consumed a considerable proportion of this first tube."

"Does it matter?" asked Lord John, who was standing with his hands in hispockets close to the window. "If we have to go, what is the use ofholdin' on? You don't suppose there's any chance for us?"

Challenger smiled and shook his head.

"Well, then, don't you think there is more dignity in takin' the jump andnot waitin' to be pushed in? If it must be so, I'm for sayin' ourprayers, turnin' off the gas, and openin' the window."

"Why not?" said the lady bravely. "Surely, George, Lord John is rightand it is better so."

"I most strongly object," cried Summerlee in a querulous voice. "When wemust die let us by all means die, but to deliberately anticipate deathseems to me to be a foolish and unjustifiable action."

"What does our young friend say to it?" asked Challenger.

Tags: Arthur Conan Doyle Professor Challenger Science Fiction
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024