Man is the creator of his own glory

Mr. Hungerton, my Gladys's father, was incredibly tactless and looked like a feathered old cockatoo, very good-natured, it is true, but preoccupied exclusively with his own person. If anything could push me away from Gladys, it would be my extreme reluctance to have such a father-in-law. I am convinced that Mr. Hungerton attributed my visits to the Chestnuts three times a week solely to the values ​​of his society and especially to his speculations on bimetallism, a subject in which he considered himself a great expert.

That evening I listened for more than an hour to his monotonous chatter about the decline in the value of silver, the depreciation of money, the fall of the rupee, and the need for a proper monetary system.

Imagine suddenly having to pay all the debts in the world immediately and simultaneously! - he exclaimed in a weak but filled with horror voice. - What will happen then under the existing system?

I, as might have been expected, said that in that case I would be ruined, but Mr. Hungerton was dissatisfied with this answer; he jumped up from his chair, scolded me for my constant frivolity, which deprived him of the opportunity to discuss serious issues with me, and ran out of the room to change clothes for the Masonic meeting.

Finally I was alone with Gladys! The minute on which my future fate depended had arrived. All that evening I felt like a soldier feels, waiting for the signal for a desperate attack, when the hope of victory is replaced in his soul by the fear of defeat.

Gladys was sitting by the window, and her proud, thin profile was clearly drawn against the background of the crimson curtain. How beautiful she was! And at the same time, how far from me! She and I were friends, great friends, but I could never get her to move beyond the purely comradely relations that I could maintain, say, with any of my fellow Daily Gazette reporters - purely comradely, kind and not knowing the differences between the sexes. I hate it when a woman treats me too freely, too boldly. This does not honor a man. If a feeling arises, it must be accompanied by modesty and wariness - a legacy of those harsh times when love and cruelty often went hand in hand. Not a bold look, but an evasive one, not glib answers, but a broken voice, a head hanging down - these are the true signs of passion. Despite my youth, I knew this, or maybe this knowledge was inherited from my distant ancestors and became what we call instinct.

Gladys was gifted with all the qualities that attract us to a woman. Some considered her cold and callous, but such thoughts seemed like betrayal to me. Delicate skin, dark, almost like that of oriental women, hair the color of a raven's wing, cloudy eyes, full but perfectly defined lips - all this spoke of a passionate nature. However, I sadly admitted to myself that until now I had not been able to win her love. But come what may - enough of the unknown! I'll get an answer from her this evening. Maybe she will refuse me, but it is better to be rejected by an admirer than to be content with the role of a virtuous brother imposed on you!

Having come to this conclusion, I was about to break the prolonged awkward silence, when I suddenly felt the critical gaze of dark eyes on me and saw that Gladys was smiling, reproachfully shaking her proud head.

I sense, Ned, that you are about to propose to me. No need. Let everything be as before, it’s much better.

I moved closer to her.

Why did you guess? - My surprise was genuine.

As if we women don't sense this beforehand! Do you really think that we can be taken by surprise? Ah, Ned! I felt so good and pleased with you! Why spoil our friendship? You don’t appreciate at all that we, a young man and a young woman, can talk to each other so naturally.

Really, I don’t know, Gladys. You see, what’s the matter... I could talk just as casually... well, say, with the head of the railway station. “I don’t understand where he came from, this boss, but the fact remains: this official suddenly stood up in front of us and made us both laugh.” - No, Gladys, I expect much more. I want to hug you, I want your head to press against my chest. Gladys, I want...

Seeing that I was about to put my words into action, Gladys quickly rose from her chair.

Ned, you ruined everything! - she said. - How good and simple it can be until this comes! Can't you pull yourself together? - But I wasn’t the first to come up with this! - I begged. - Such is human nature. That's how love is.

Yes, if the love is mutual, then things are probably different. But I've never experienced this feeling.

You with your beauty, with your heart! Gladys, you were made for love! You must love.

Then you have to wait for love to come on its own.

But why don't you love me, Gladys? What bothers you - my appearance or something else?

And then Gladys softened a little. She extended her hand - how much grace and condescension there was in this gesture! - and pulled my head back. Then she looked into my face with a sad smile.

No, that's not the point, she said. - You are not a vain boy, and I can safely admit that this is not the case. It's much more serious than you think.

My character?

She bowed her head sternly.

I'll fix it, just tell me what you need. Sit down and let's discuss everything. Well, I won’t, I won’t, just sit down!

Gladys looked at me, as if doubting the sincerity of my words, but to me her doubt was worth more than complete trust. How primitive and stupid all this looks on paper! However, maybe it’s just me who thinks so? Be that as it may, Gladys sat down in the chair.

Now tell me, what are you unhappy with?

I love another one.

It was my turn to jump up.

Don’t be alarmed, I’m talking about my ideal,” Gladys explained, looking at my changed face with a laugh. - I have never come across such a person in my life.

Tell us what he is like! What does he look like?

He may be very similar to you.

How kind you are! Then what am I missing? One word from you is enough! That he is a teetotaler, a vegetarian, an aeronaut, a theosophist, a superman? I agree to everything, Gladys, just tell me what you need!

Such pliability made her laugh.

First of all, it’s unlikely that my ideal would say that. He has a much firmer, stern nature and will not want to adapt so readily to stupid female whims. But what is most important is that he is a man of action, a man who will fearlessly look death in the eye, a man of great deeds, rich in experience and unusual experiences. I will not love him himself, but his glory, because its reflection will fall on me. Think Richard Burton. When I read the biography of this man written by his wife, it became clear to me why she loved him. And Lady Stanley? Do you remember the wonderful last chapter from her book about her husband? These are the kind of men a woman should bow to! This is love that does not diminish, but exalts, because the whole world will honor such a woman as the inspirer of great deeds!

Chapter XVI. OUTSIDE! OUTSIDE! I consider it my duty to express my deep gratitude to all our friends from the Amazon, who received us so warmly and showed us so much attention. Special thanks are due to Señor Penalosa and other officials of the Brazilian government, whose assistance ensured our return home, as well as to Señor Pereira from the city of Pará, who prudently prepared for us everything necessary in terms of clothing, so that now we will not be ashamed to appear in the civilized world. Unfortunately, we did not repay our benefactors well for their hospitality. But what to do! I take this opportunity to assure those who decide to follow in our footsteps to the Country of Maple White that it will only be a waste of time and money. In our stories, we changed all the names, and no matter how you study the reports of the expedition, you will still not be able to even get close to those places. We thought that the increased interest in us in South America was purely local, but who could have predicted what a sensation the first vague rumors about our adventures would create in Europe! It turns out that not only the scientific world was interested in us, but also the general public, although we learned about this relatively late. When Iberia was already fifty miles from Southampton, the wireless telegraph began to transmit to us dispatch after dispatch from various newspapers and agencies, which offered colossal fees for even the briefest report of the results of the expedition. However, our duty obliged us first of all to report to the Zoological Institute , who commissioned us to make an investigation, and after consulting among ourselves, we refused to give any information to the press. Southampton was swarming with reporters, but they got nothing from us, and therefore it is easy to imagine with what interest the public awaited the meeting scheduled for the evening November 7. The hall of the Zoological Institute - the same one where the commission of inquiry was created - was considered insufficiently spacious, and the meeting had to be moved to Queens Hall on Regent Street. Now no one doubts that even if the organizers had rented the Albert Hall, then it, too, would not have accommodated everyone.The significant meeting was scheduled for the second evening after our arrival in London. It was assumed that the first day would be spent on personal matters. I'm keeping quiet about mine for now. Time will pass, and maybe it will be easier for me to think and even talk about all this. At the beginning of my story, I revealed to the reader what forces prompted me to act. Now, perhaps, we should show how it all ended. But the time will come when I will tell myself that there is nothing to regret. Those forces pushed me on this path, and by their will I learned the value of real adventures. And now I’ll move on to the last event that completed our epic. As I was racking my brain for how best to describe it, my eye fell on the November 8 issue of the Daily Gazette, which contained a detailed report of a meeting at the Zoological Institute, written by my friend and colleague, McDonagh. I’ll give it here in full, starting with the title, because you still can’t think of anything better. Our Daily, proud of the fact that its own correspondent took part in the expedition, devoted especially much space to the events at the Zoological Institute, but other major newspapers also did not ignore them. So, I give the floor to my friend McDonagh: NEW WORLD CROWDED MEETING AT QUEEN'S HALL STORMY SCENES IN THE HALL AN UNUSUAL INCIDENT WHAT WAS IT? NIGHT DEMONSTRATION ON REGENT STREET (From our special correspondent) “The long-awaited meeting of the Zoological Institute, at which was heard the report of the commission sent a year ago to South America to verify the information reported by Professor Challenger about the presence of forms of prehistoric life on this continent, took place yesterday in Queens Hall, and we can safely say: this day will go down in the history of science, for its events were of such an extraordinary and sensational nature that they are unlikely to ever be erased from the memory of those present. (Oh, my fellow writer, MacDonagh! How monstrous long introductory phrase!) Officially, invitation cards were distributed only among members of the institute and persons close to them, but, as is known, the latter concept is very loose, and therefore the large Queens Hall was packed long before the start of the meeting, scheduled for eight o'clock. However, The general public, unjustifiably aggrieved, stormed the doors of the hall after a lengthy battle with the police, during which several people were injured, including Inspector Scoble, who suffered a broken leg. Including these rioters, who filled not only all the aisles, but also the places reserved for representatives of the press, it was estimated that no less than five thousand people were awaiting the arrival of travelers. When they finally appeared, they were led onto the stage, where by that time the greatest scientists not only from England, but also from France and Germany had gathered. Sweden was also represented in the person of the famous zoologist, professor at Uppsala University, Mr. Sergius. The appearance of the four heroes of the day was greeted with an ovation: the entire hall rose as one person and greeted them with shouts and applause. However, an attentive observer could detect a certain dissonant note in this storm of delight and conclude from this that the meeting would not proceed entirely peacefully. But none of those present could have predicted what actually happened. There is no need to describe the appearance of our four travelers here, since their photographs are published in all newspapers. The ordeals they are said to have endured had little effect on them, although they left our shores not so tanned at all. Professor Challenger's beard has become, perhaps, even more luxuriant, Professor Summerlee's facial features are a little drier, Lord John Roxton has lost a little weight, but, in general, their state of health leaves nothing to be desired. As for the representative of our newspaper, the famous athlete and international rugby player E. D. Malone, he is in full shape, and his honest, but not sparklingly beautiful, face shines with a complacent smile. (Okay, Mac, just get caught by me!) When silence was restored and everyone was seated, the presiding officer, the Duke of Durham, addressed the meeting with a speech. The Duke immediately announced that since the audience was about to meet the travelers themselves, he did not intend to detain their attention and anticipate the report of Professor Summerlee, the chairman of the commission of inquiry, whose labors, judging by the available information, were crowned with brilliant success. (Applause.) Apparently, the age of romance has not passed, and the ardent imagination of the poet can still rest on the solid foundation of science. “In conclusion,” said the Duke, “I can only express my joy—and in this I will undoubtedly be supported by all present—that the gentlemen have returned healthy and unharmed from their difficult and dangerous journey, for with the death of this expedition science would have suffered almost irreparable losses." (Noisy applause, joined by Professor Challenger.) The appearance of Professor Summerlee at the department again caused a storm of delight, and his speech was continually interrupted by applause. We will not quote it verbatim, since a detailed report on the work of the expedition, written by our correspondent, will be published by the Daily Gazette as a special brochure. Therefore, we will limit ourselves to only a brief summary of Professor Summerlee’s report. Having reminded the assembly how the idea of ​​sending an expedition arose, the speaker paid tribute to Professor Challenger and apologized to him for the former mistrust of his words, now fully confirmed. He then outlined the route of the journey, carefully avoiding any indications that could serve as a reference to the geographical position of this extraordinary plateau; described in a few words the transition from the shores of the Amazon to the mountain range and literally shocked his listeners with the story of the expedition’s repeated attempts to climb the plateau, which ultimately cost them at the cost of the lives of two devoted mestizo guides. (We owe this unexpected interpretation of events to Summerlee, who wished to avoid certain sensitive issues.) Having climbed with his listeners to the top of a mountain ridge and made them feel what the collapse of the bridge - their only connection with the outside world - meant to the four travelers, the professor began to describe horrors and delights of this extraordinary country. He spoke little about his adventures, but tried in every possible way to emphasize what a rich contribution to science the expedition made by observing representatives of the animal and plant kingdoms of the plateau. The insect world there is especially rich in Coleoptera and Squamoptera, and within a few weeks the expedition was able to identify forty-six species of the first family and ninety-four of the second. But, as one might expect, the public was mainly interested in large animals, especially those considered long extinct. The professor gave a long list of such prehistoric monsters, assuring his listeners that this list could be significantly expanded after a thorough study of the plateau. He and his companions were able to see with their own eyes, though mostly from a distance, at least a dozen animals still unknown to science. Over time, they will certainly be properly studied and classified. As examples, the professor cited a dark purple snake fifty-one feet long, a white creature, most likely a mammal, that emits phosphorus light in the dark, and a huge black butterfly, the bites of which the Indians say are poisonous. In addition to completely new species of living beings, the plateau is replete with prehistoric animals known to science; some of them should be dated to the Early Jurassic period. Here the name was given to a gigantic stegosaurus that Mr. Malone once came across at a watering hole on the lake. The same exact animal was sketched in the album of an American artist who penetrated into this unknown world even before the expedition. Professor Summerlee also described the iguanodon and the pterodactyl, the first two monsters he encountered on the plateau, and shuddered his audience by telling about the most terrible predators that inhabited this world - the dinosaurs that more than once pursued one or the other member of the expedition. Then the professor spoke in detail about the huge ferocious bird Fororakos and about the gigantic moose that are still found on the plateaus of that country. But the delight of the audience reached its highest limit when the professor told her the secrets of the central lake. Listening to the calm speech of this sober scientist, you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure that this was not a dream, that you were actually hearing about three-eyed fish-like lizards and giant water snakes living in these mysterious depths. He then proceeded to describe the natives and a tribe of apes who appear to be the result of the evolution of the Javan Pithecanthropus, and therefore more closely approximate than any other species of the animal kingdom to the hypothetical creature known as the missing link between ape and man. "Finally, the professor amused the audience by describing an ingenious but extremely dangerous aeronautical apparatus - the invention of Professor Challenger, and at the conclusion of his extremely interesting report he told how the expedition managed to return to the civilized world. It was assumed that this would be the end of the meeting and that the professor's proposal Sergius, the resolution expressing gratitude to the members of the commission of inquiry will be duly voted on and adopted. However, subsequent events did not develop smoothly. From the very beginning of the meeting, a hostile part of the public made itself known every now and then, and as soon as Professor Summerlee finished his report, Dr. James Illingworth from Edinburgh rose from his seat and addressed the chairman with a question: should an amendment to it be discussed before the resolution is voted on? Chairman. Yes, sir, if there is one. Dr. Illingworth. I have a correction, Your Grace. Chairman. In that case, announce it. Professor Summerlee (jumping up from his seat). Your Grace, allow me to inform everyone that this man has been my personal enemy ever since we had a debate with him on the pages of the Scientific Review magazine. Chairman. Personal issues do not concern us. Carry on, Dr. Illingworth. The friends of our travelers made such a noise that Dr. Illingworth was at times almost inaudible. Some even tried to drag him from the pulpit. But, possessing remarkable strength and a powerful voice, Dr. Illingworth overcame all obstacles and brought his speech to the end. From the moment he rose from his seat, it became clear to everyone that he had many supporters in the hall, although they constituted a minority of the audience. A significant part of the public was in a wait-and-see mood and so far remained neutral. To begin with, Professor Illingworth assured Professor Challenger and Professor Summerlee of his deepest respect for their scientific work, but then noted with regret that his amendment to the resolution was somehow explained by some personal motives, while in fact he was guided solely by a desire for truth. In essence, he now takes the same position that Professor Summerlee occupied at the last meeting. Professor Challenger then put forward a number of theses that were questioned by his colleague. Now this same colleague is making exactly the same statements and expects that no one will dispute them. Is this logical? (Cries: “Yes!.., “No!” In the box reserved for representatives of the press, Professor Challenger is heard asking the chairman for permission to turn Dr. Illingworth out of the door.) A year ago, one person said very strange things. Now it’s the same, and, perhaps, to an even greater extent, four people do. But can this serve as a decisive factor where we are talking about almost a revolution in science? Everyone remembers the case when travelers returned from distant lands unknown to anyone. spread all sorts of fables, which were too readily believed. Does the London Zoological Institute really want to find itself in the position of a gullible? The members of the investigation commission are very worthy people, no one will deny this. But human nature is extremely complex. The desire to advance can lead any professor astray. We, like butterflies, fly to the flame of glory. Big game hunters are not averse to sinning against the truth to spite their rivals, and journalists are so greedy for all sorts of sensations that they often call on their rich imagination to help the facts. Each of the commission members could have had their own motives, guided by which they inflated the results of the expedition. (“Shame! Shame!”) He does not want to insult anyone (“However, he insults!” Noise in the hall.), ... but the evidence presented in support of all these miracles is extremely frivolous. What do they boil down to? To several photographs. But in our time, the art of falsification has reached such a high level that one cannot rely on photographs alone. What else are they trying to convince us with? With a story about a hasty escape and a rappel, what allegedly prevented the members of the expedition from taking with them larger specimens of the fauna of this wonderful country? Witty, but not very convincing. Lord John Roxton was said to have the skull of a Fororakos. But where is he? It would be interesting to look at him. Lord John Roxton. This person seems to be accusing me of lying? (Noise in the hall.) Chairman. Quiet! Quiet! Dr. Illingworth, please state your amendment. Dr. Illingworth. I comply, although there is something else I would like to say. So, my proposal boils down to the following: thank Professor Summerlee for his interesting report, but consider the facts he reported to be unproven and entrust their verification to another, more authoritative commission. It is difficult to describe the confusion these words caused in the hall. The majority of those present, outraged by such slander against our travelers, demanded: “Down with the amendment!” “Don’t vote for it!” “Get him out of here!” This is unfair!. "Chairman! Call to order!. On the back benches, where the medical students were sitting, a scuffle began, fists were used. A general melee was prevented only by the presence of ladies in the audience. And suddenly the screams stopped, there was complete silence in the hall. Standing on the stage Professor Challenger The appearance and manners of this man make such an impressive impression that as soon as he raised his hand, everyone sat down and prepared to listen to him. “Many of those present probably remember,” began Professor Challenger, “that such obscene scenes played out.” and at our first meeting. That time my main offender was Professor Summerlee, and although he has now corrected himself and repented of his sins, this incident cannot be forgotten. Today I had to hear even more offensive attacks from the person. that he left the stage. With the greatest difficulty I force myself to descend to the intellectual level of this person, but this must be done in order to eliminate the doubts that perhaps still remain among some of those present here. (Laughter, noise, shouts from the back rows.) Professor Summerlee spoke here as the head of the commission of inquiry, but it is hardly necessary to remind you that I am the real inspirer of the whole affair and that our trip was crowned with success mainly thanks to me. I brought these three gentlemen to the right place and, as you have already heard, convinced them of the correctness of my statements. We did not expect that our joint conclusions would be challenged with the same ignorance and stubbornness. But, taught by bitter experience, this time I armed myself with some evidence that can convince any sane person. Professor Summerlee has already said here that our cameras were in the clutches of the ape-men who destroyed our entire camp, and that most of the negatives were lost. (Noise, laughter, someone shouts from the back benches: “Tell this to your grandmother!”) By the way, about the apes. I cannot help but note that the sounds that are now reaching my ears very vividly remind me of our meetings with these curious creatures. (Laughter.) Despite the fact that many valuable negatives were destroyed, we still have a certain amount of photographs left and from them it is quite possible to judge the living conditions on the plateau. Does anyone present have any doubts about their authenticity? (Someone's voice: “Yes!” General excitement, ending with several people being taken out of the hall.) The negatives are brought to the attention of the experts. What other evidence can the commission present? She had to flee from the plateau, and therefore could not burden herself Whatever the burden, Professor Summerlee has managed to save his collection of butterflies and beetles, and there are many new varieties in it. Isn't that enough? (Several voices: "No! No!") Who said "no"? Dr. Illingworth ( rising from his seat.) We believe that the collection could have been assembled anywhere, and not necessarily on your prehistoric plateau. (Applause.) Professor Challenger: Without a doubt, sir, the word of such a great scientist as you is law for us. However, let us leave photographs and an entomological collection and move on to questions that have never been covered by anyone. We, for example, have absolutely accurate information about pterodactyls. The way of life of these animals... (Shouts: “Nonsense!” Noise in the hall.) I say, The way of life of these animals will now become completely clear to you. In my briefcase there is a drawing made from life, based on which... Doctor Illingworth. Drawings will not convince us of anything! Professor Challenger. Would you like to see nature itself? Dr. Illingworth. Without a doubt! Professor Challenger. And then will you believe me? Dr. Illingworth (laughing). Then? Of course! And here we come to the most exciting and dramatic episode of the evening - an episode whose effect will forever remain unsurpassed. Professor Challenger raised his hand, our colleague Mr. E. D. Malone immediately rose from his seat and walked towards the depths of the platform. A minute later he reappeared, accompanied by a gigantic black man; The two of them were carrying a large square box, apparently very heavy. The box was placed at the professor's feet. The audience froze, watching with tension what was happening. Professor Challenger removed the sliding lid from the box, looked inside and, snapping his fingers several times, said in a touching voice (his words were perfectly audible in the journalist's box): “Well, come out, baby, come out!” Some fussing, scratching, and Immediately after this, an unimaginably terrible, disgusting creature crawled out of the box and sat down on its edge. Even the unexpected fall of the Duke of Durham into the orchestra pit did not distract the attention of the horror-stricken audience. The predatory head of this monster with small eyes, glowing like coals, involuntarily made them remember terrible chimeras that could only have arisen in the imagination of medieval artists. Its half-open long beak was seated with two rows of sharp teeth. Upturned shoulders were hidden in the folds of some kind of dirty gray shawl. In a word, this was the same devil with which we were scared in childhood. The audience was in confusion - someone screamed, two ladies in the front row fainted, the scientists on the stage showed a clear desire to follow the chairman into the orchestra. It seemed that in another second, general panic would seize the hall. Professor Challenger raised his hand above his head, trying to calm the audience, but this movement frightened the monster sitting next to him. It spread out a gray shawl, which turned out to be nothing more than a pair of membranous wings. The professor grabbed his legs, but could not hold him. The monster rose from the box and slowly circled around the hall, flapping its ten-foot wings with a dry rustle and spreading a terrifying stench around itself. The screams of the audience in the gallery, scared to death by the proximity of those burning eyes and huge beak, threw him into complete confusion. It rushed faster and faster around the hall, bumping into walls and chandeliers, and, apparently, completely went crazy with fear. “Window! For the love of God, close the window!” shouted the professor, dancing in horror and wringing his hands. Alas, he realized too late. The monster, beating against the walls, like a huge butterfly against a lampshade, caught up with the window and squeezed its an ugly body... and only we saw him. The professor covered his face with his hands and fell into a chair, and the audience gasped with relief, like one person, making sure that the danger had passed. And then... But is it possible to describe what was happening in the hall. , when the delight of the supporters and the dismay of Challenger's recent opponents merged and a powerful wave of jubilation swept from the back rows to the orchestra pit, swept the stage and lifted our heroes on its crest! (Well done, Mac!) If until now the audience had been unfair to the four brave travelers, now they tried to atone for their guilt. Everyone jumped up from their seats. Everyone moved towards the stage, shouting and waving their arms. The heroes were surrounded in a tight ring. “Roll them! Rock them!” - hundreds of voices were heard. And then four travelers took off above the crowd. All their attempts to free themselves were in vain! Yes, even if they wanted to, they could not get down to the ground, since people stood on the stage like a solid wall. “Outside ! Outside!. - they shouted all around. The crowd began to move, and a stream of people slowly moved towards the doors, taking the four heroes with them. Something unimaginable began on the street. At least one hundred thousand people gathered there. People stood shoulder to shoulder from the Langham Hotel to Oxford Square. As soon as the bright light of the lanterns at the entrance illuminated the four heroes floating above the heads of the crowd, the air trembled with cheers. “Procession along Regent Street!” - everyone unanimously demanded. Having blocked the street, the ranks moved forward, along Regent Street, to Pall Mall, St. James Street and Piccadilly. Traffic in the center of London stopped. Between the demonstrators, on the one hand , police and drivers on the other, a number of clashes occurred.Finally, after midnight, the crowd released the four travelers, taking them to Albany, to the door of the apartment of Lord John Roxton, singing them goodbye, “Our good fellows. and ended the program with the anthem. Thus ended that evening - one of the most wonderful evenings that London has known for many years." So wrote my friend MacDonagh, and, despite the flowery style of his style, the course of events is set out in this report quite accurately. As for the biggest sensation, it struck only the public with its unexpectedness, but not us, the expedition members. The reader, of course, did not forget my meeting with Lord John Roxton, when he, putting on something like a crinoline, went to get a chicken for Professor Challenger. the troubles that Challenger's luggage caused us when descending from the plateau. If I had decided to continue my story, it would have devoted a lot of space to describing the fuss with our not entirely appetizing companion, whom we had to please with rotten fish, because I kept silent about it. Professor Challenger feared that rumors of this irrefutable argument might leak out to the public before he could use it to crush his enemies. A few words about the fate of the London pterodactyl. Nothing definite could be established here. Two frightened women claim to have seen him on the roof of Queens Hall, where he sat for several hours on end, like some kind of monstrous statue. The next day, a short notice appeared in the evening newspapers with the following content: Guardsman Miles, who stood guard at Marlborough House, left his post and was court-martialed for this. At the trial, Miles testified that while on night duty, he accidentally looked up and saw the devil blocking the moon from him, after which he threw down his rifle and took off running down Pall Mall. The defendant's testimony was not taken into account, and yet it may be directly related to the issue that interests us. I will add one more piece of evidence, which I gleaned from the log of the ship of the American-Dutch line "Friesland." It is recorded there that at nine o'clock the next morning, when Start Point was ten miles to starboard, something between a winged goat and a huge bat flew over the ship, heading southwest, with terrible speed. If instinct correctly pointed the way for our pterodactyl, then there can be no doubt that he met his end somewhere in the depths of the Atlantic Ocean. And my Gladys? Gladys, whose name was given to the mysterious lake, which from now on will be called Central, because now I no longer want to give her immortality. Haven’t I noticed signs of callousness in this woman’s nature before? Did you not feel, proudly obeying her command, that the love that sends a person to certain death or forces him to risk his life is worth little? Have you struggled with the thought that always returned to me that in this woman only her appearance is beautiful, that her soul is darkened by the shadow of selfishness and inconstancy? Why was she so captivated by everything heroic? Is it because the accomplishment of a noble deed could affect her without any effort, without any sacrifice on her part? Or is all this just empty speculation? I was not myself all these days. The blow I received poisoned my soul. But a week has passed since then, and during this time we had one very important conversation with Lord John Roxton... Little by little it begins to seem to me that things are not so bad. I'll tell you in a few words how it all happened. There was no letter or telegram addressed to me in Southampton, and, alarmed by this, at ten o'clock in the evening of the same day I was already standing at the door of a small villa in Streatham. Maybe she is no longer alive? How long have I dreamed of open arms, a smiling face, warm praise lavished endlessly on a hero who risked his life at the whim of his beloved! Reality threw me from sky-high heights to the ground. But one word of explanation from her will be enough for me to soar to the clouds again. And I rushed headlong along the garden path, knocked on the door, heard the voice of my Gladys, pushed aside the dumbfounded maid and flew into the living room. She was sitting on a sofa between the piano and a tall standing lamp. I ran across the room in three steps and grabbed both her hands in mine. - Gladys! - I shouted. - Gladys! She looked at me in surprise. Since our last meeting, some subtle change has occurred in her. The cold gaze, the firmly compressed lips - all this seemed new to me. Gladys released her hands. - What does it mean? - she asked. - Gladys! - I shouted. - What's wrong with you? You are my Gladys, my beloved little Gladys Hungerton! “No,” she said. - I'm Gladys Potts. Let me introduce you to my husband. What a ridiculous thing life is! I found myself automatically bowing and shaking hands with the small, reddish-haired figure who was sitting comfortably in the deep armchair that had once served only me. We nodded our heads and looked at each other with the stupidest smiles. - Dad allowed us to live here for now. Our house is not ready yet,” Gladys explained. - That's how it is! - I said. -Didn't you receive my letter in Par? - No, I didn’t receive any letter. - What a pity! Then everything would be clear to you. “Everything is clear to me,” I muttered. “I told William about you,” Gladys continued. - We have no secrets from each other. I am very sorry that this happened, but your feeling was probably not very deep if you could leave me here alone and go somewhere to the ends of the world. Aren't you sulking at me? “No, what are you, what are you!” So ​​I guess I’ll go.” “Shouldn’t we have some tea?” suggested the reddish-haired individual and then added in a confidential tone: “That’s how it always happens... What else can you count on?” “Out of two opponents, one always wins.” He burst into idiotic laughter, and I considered it best to leave the living room door, when suddenly something pushed me, and, obeying this impulse, I returned to my happy opponent, who. immediately cast an alarming glance at the electric bell. “Please answer me one question,” I said. “Well, if it’s within the limits of what is permitted...” “How did you find any treasure?” Were you a corsair? Flew across the English Channel? What did you do, romance? How did you do it? His stupidly good-natured, insignificant face expressed complete bewilderment. - Don’t you think that all this is too personal? - he finally said. - Fine. One more question, the last one! - I shouted. - Who you are? What is your profession? - I work as a clerk in the notary office of Johnson and Merville. Address: Number 41 Chancery Lane. - Best wishes! - I shouted and, as befits an inconsolable hero, I disappeared into the darkness of the night, overwhelmed by rage, grief and... laughter. One more short scene - and my story will be finished. Last night we all gathered at Lord John Roxton's and, after dinner, over a cigar, we spent a long time reminiscing in friendly conversation about our recent adventures. It was strange to see these faces I knew well in such an unusual environment. Here sits Challenger - a condescending smile still plays on his lips, his eyelids are still narrowed contemptuously, his beard bristles, he sticks out his chest, puffs up, lecturing Summerlee. And he puffs on his short pipe and shakes his goatee, furiously challenging Challenger’s every word. And finally, here is our owner - a thin face, a cold gaze of ice-blue eagle eyes, in the depths of which a cheerful, sly light always smolders. All three will remain like this in my memory for a long time. After dinner we moved into Lord John's inner sanctum - his study, bathed in a rosy glow and hung with countless trophies - and our further conversation took place there. The owner took an old cigar box from the cabinet and placed it on the table in front of him. “Perhaps I should have told you about this matter a long time ago,” he began, “but I wanted to find out everything to the end first.” Is it worth raising hopes and then being convinced of their impossibility? But now we have facts before us. You probably remember the day when we found a pterodactyl lair in the swamp? So: I looked and looked at this swamp and finally became thoughtful. I'll tell you what's wrong if you haven't noticed anything yourself. It was a volcanic crater with blue clay. Both professors nodded their heads, confirming his words. - I saw the same volcanic funnel with blue clay only once in my life - at large diamond placers in Kimberley. You understand? Diamonds couldn't get out of my head. I built a kind of basket to protect myself from these fetid reptiles and, armed with a spatula, had a good time in their lair. Here's what I took away from it. He opened the cigar box, turned it upside down and poured out onto the table about thirty or more rough diamonds ranging in size from beans to chestnuts. - You will probably say that I should have immediately shared my discovery with you. I do not argue. But an inexperienced person can run into a lot of trouble with these stones. After all, their value depends not so much on size, but on the consistency and purity of the water. In a word, I brought them here, on the very first day I went to Spink and asked him to polish and evaluate one stone for me. Lord John took a small pill box from his pocket and showed us a magnificently playing diamond, the like of which I have probably never seen in beauty. “Here are the results of my labors,” he said. - The jeweler valued this pile at the very least at two hundred thousand pounds. Of course, we will share equally. I won't agree to anything else. Well, Challenger, what will you do with your fifty thousand? “If you really insist on such a generous decision,” said the professor, “then I will spend all the money on equipment for a private museum, which I have long dreamed of.” - And you, Summerlee? “I will give up teaching and devote all my time to the final classification of my collection of Cretaceous fossils.” “And I,” said Lord John Roxton, “will spend all my share on equipping the expedition and look once more at the plateau dear to our hearts.” As for you, young man, you also need money. Are you getting married? “No, I’m not going to yet,” I answered with a sad smile. - I guess, if you don't mind, I'll join you. Lord Roxton looked at me and silently extended his strong, tanned hand to me.

Conan Doyle Arthur.

Lost World. Poisoned Belt. When the world screamed (collection)

Arthur Conan Doyle

"The Lost World. The Poison Belt. "When the World Screams"

© Book Club “Family Leisure Club”, edition in Russian, 2008, 2011

© Book Club “Family Leisure Club”, translation and artwork, 2008

lost World

I will guide my readers
The path of the plot, illusory and unsteady, -
A young man in whom the husband's voice is still quiet,
Or a man with a childish smile.

Preface

Mr. E. D. Malone hereby declares that all legal restraints and charges of libel are now irrevocably withdrawn by Professor J. E. Challenger, and the Professor, being satisfied that no criticism or comment in this book is offensive, guaranteed that he would not interfere with its publication and distribution.

Chapter I
There is always an opportunity to accomplish a feat

Mr. Hungerton, my beloved's father, was truly the most tactless man on earth. He resembled a slovenly parrot with feathers, quite good-natured, however, but completely concentrated on his own stupid person. If anything could make me give up my Gladys, it would be the thought of such a test. I am convinced that in his heart of hearts he sincerely believed that I came to Chestnuts three times a week solely for the pleasure of being in his company, and especially to listen to his discussions on bimetallism. 1
A bimetallic standard is a monetary system based on two metals, usually gold and silver. (Note per.)

- an area in which Mr. Hungerton considered himself a major authority.

That evening I listened for an hour to his monotonous chatter about the symbolic value of silver, about the depreciation of the rupee 2
…rupees...– Rupee (from Sanskrit rupya - minted silver) is the monetary unit of India and other countries.

And about the fairness of exchange rates.

“Imagine,” he exclaimed in his weak voice, “that all the debts in the whole world were simultaneously presented for payment, insisting on their immediate repayment!” What would happen under the current monetary system?

I, of course, replied that I personally would be ruined by doing so, whereupon Mr. Hungerton jumped up from his chair, reproached me for my usual frivolity, which made it impossible for him to discuss any serious questions in my presence, and rushed out of the room to change his clothes to meeting of your Masonic lodge 3
...masonic lodge. – See t. 1 comment on p. 391–392. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

At last I found myself alone with Gladys, and the decisive moment had arrived on which our fate depended! All evening I felt like a soldier who was waiting for the signal to march on a hopeless mission and in whose soul the hope of victory was constantly replaced by the fear of defeat.

What a proud, dignified posture, a thin profile against the background of red curtains... How beautiful Gladys was! And yet so far from me! We were friends, just good friends; I could never get her to move beyond the usual friendship that I might have had with any of my fellow Gazette reporters—absolutely sincere, absolutely cordial, and absolutely devoid of gender divisions. I am outraged when a woman behaves too openly and freely towards me. It doesn't do a man any favors 4
I am outraged when a woman behaves too openly and freely towards me. This does not honor a man.– Here and further in this paragraph, Malone expresses the thoughts of A. Conan Doyle himself, a principled opponent of suffragism and extreme forms of women’s emancipation. J. D. Carr quotes the words spoken by A. Conan Doyle during the parliamentary elections of 1905 to voters: “When a man returns home after a whole day's work, I don’t think he dreams of meeting a politician in a skirt at his fireside” (Carr J. . D. The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle... - P. 155). (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

Where real attraction arises, it must be accompanied by timidity and doubt - relics of old, immoral times, when love and coercion often went hand in hand. A bowed head, eyes averted to the side, a trembling voice, an uncertain gait - these are the true signs of passion, and certainly not a firm gaze and open speech. In my short life, I have already learned this, or inherited it at the level of ancestral memory, which we call instinct.

Gladys was the embodiment of the best feminine qualities. Some might have considered her cold and stern, but this impression was deceptive. Dark skin with an almost oriental bronze tint, hair the color of a raven's wing, slightly plump but graceful lips, large clear eyes - all the signs of a passionate nature were present in her. But I sadly had to admit that until now I had not been able to discover the secret of how to give it all a way out. However, come what may, I must end this uncertainty and open up to Gladys tonight. She may reject me, but it is better to be rejected by her lover than to resign herself to the role of a brother.

I was caught up in my thoughts and was about to break the long awkward silence when she looked at me with dark eyes and shook her proud head, smiling reproachfully.

“Ted, I guess you want to propose to me.” I wouldn't want that; let everything remain as it is, it will be much better.

I moved my chair a little closer to her.

- But how did you know that I was going to propose to you? – I asked with genuine surprise.

– Women always feel this. I assure you that no woman in the world can be taken by surprise by such things. But... Oh Ted, our friendship was so bright and joyful! What a shame it would be to ruin everything! Don't you feel how wonderful it is when a young woman and a young man, being alone, can calmly talk to each other, as you and I are doing now?

“Really, I don’t know, Gladys.” You see, I can calmly talk alone only with... with the head of the railway station. “I don’t know why this official came to mind, but it just so happened, and Gladys and I laughed.” – This does not suit me in any way. I would like to have my arms around you, to have your head pressed against my chest... Oh Gladys, I would like...

Noticing that I was ready to make some of my dreams come true, Gladys jumped up from her chair.

“You ruined everything, Ted,” she said. – Everything is so wonderful and natural until such conversations begin! What a pity! Why can't you control yourself?

“I wasn’t the first to come up with all this,” I justified myself. – Everything is very natural. This is Love.

- Well, if two people love, it may happen differently. I have never experienced such feelings.

- But you must experience them - with your beauty, with your beautiful soul! Oh Gladys, you were made for love! You simply have to love!

“You just need to wait for this feeling to come.”

“But why can’t you love me, Gladys?” Is it my appearance or something else?

Having softened a little, she reached out her hand and pulled my head back with a graceful and condescending gesture. Then she looked into my eyes with a thoughtful smile.

“That’s not the point,” Gladys finally said. “You are not a self-confident young man by nature, so I can calmly tell you this.” Everything is much more complicated.

– My character?

She nodded seriously.

“I’ll fix it, just tell me what I have to do for this!” Sit down and let's discuss everything. Okay, we won't discuss it, just sit down!

She looked at me with surprise and doubt, which was more valuable to me than her complete trust. When you put our conversation on paper, everything seems primitive and rude, although perhaps it just seems so to me. One way or another, Gladys sat down again.

- Now tell me what you don’t like about me?

“I love another person,” she said.

It was my turn to jump out of my chair.

“This is not a specific person,” she explained, laughing at the expression on my face. – This is still ideal. I haven't met the man I have in mind yet.

- Tell me about him. What does he look like?

“Oh, he might even look a lot like you.”

- How kind of you! Okay, what does he have that I don't? At least hint - he is a teetotaler, a vegetarian, an aeronaut, a theosophist 5
…theosophist…– Here: a mystic endowed with special, “suprahuman” wisdom. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

Superman 6
…superman... – One of the central concepts of the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche (1844–1900), formulated by him in the works “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” (1883–1884), “Beyond Good and Evil” (1886), “The Will to Power” (1889) etc. According to F. Nietzsche, a superman is a strong personality whose will, desires and actions are not subject to the “slave morality” of the masses. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

I will definitely try to change, Gladys, just tell me what you would like.

My unusual amenability made her laugh.

“Well, first of all, I don’t think my ideal would talk like that,” Gladys said. “He should be a firmer, more decisive man and not so readily indulge stupid girlish whims.” But above all he must be a man capable of making decisions, capable of acting, capable of facing death fearlessly; a person ready for great deeds and unusual events. I could fall in love not even with the person himself, but with the glory he won, because its reflection would fall on me too. Think Richard Burton! 7
Burton, Richard Francis (1821–1890) - British traveler, writer, poet, translator, ethnographer, linguist, hypnotist, swordsman and diplomat. He became famous for his explorations of Asia and Africa, as well as his exceptional knowledge of various languages ​​and cultures. (Note per.)

When I read his biography written by his wife, I understand her love so much! And Lady Stanley! 8
…Lady Stanley... - The wife of the English journalist and explorer of Africa Henry Morton Stanley (1841–1904), in 1871–1872, as a correspondent for the New York Herald newspaper, he participated in the search for the missing English traveler D. Livingston and found him. In addition, G. M. Stanley discovered the source of the Congo River, Lake Edward, the Rwenzori massif, the upper reaches of the Nile River, etc. Author of the books “How I Found Livingstone”, “In the Wilds of Africa”, etc. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

Have you read the wonderful last chapter of her book about her husband? These are the kind of men women are ready to idolize with all their souls. Such love does not humiliate a woman, but exalts her even more and brings her the veneration of the whole world as an inspirer of great deeds.

In her outburst Gladys was so beautiful that I again almost ruined our sublime conversation; however, I managed to pull myself together and continued the argument.

“But everyone can’t be a Burton or a Stanley,” I objected, “and besides, not everyone has the opportunity to somehow distinguish themselves - I, for example, never had such a chance.” And if there was, I would not fail to use it.

“But such chances are always around. This is precisely what distinguishes a real man; I mean he's looking for them. It is impossible to contain him. I have never met such a gentleman, but, nevertheless, it seems to me that I know him well. There is always an opportunity to accomplish a feat 9
There is always an opportunity to accomplish a feat. – In the original: “There are heroisms all round us.” A probable paraphrase from “The Old Woman Izergil” (1895) by M. Gorky, where the title character tells the narrator: “And when a person loves feats, he always knows how to do them and will find where it is possible. In life, you know, there is always room for exploits. And those who do not find them for themselves are simply lazy or cowards, or do not understand life, because if people understood life, everyone would want to leave behind their shadow in it” (Gorky M. Collected Works: B 16 t. – M.: Pravda, 1979. – T. 1: Stories 1892–1897. – P. 79). // In A. Conan Doyle, this phrase is also spoken by a woman, and also addressing a man: “But such chances are always around. This is precisely what distinguishes a real man; I mean he's looking for them. It is impossible to contain him. I have never met such a gentleman, but, nevertheless, it seems to me that I know him well. There is always the opportunity to accomplish a feat that is just waiting for its hero. A man’s destiny is to perform heroic deeds ‹…›.” And a little further: “This should happen by itself, because you simply cannot restrain yourself, because it is in your blood, because the person inside you longs to prove himself in a heroic act.” // And between these two monologues - the author seems to strengthen the allusion - Gladys mentions Russia, where the balloon of a certain French hero landed. \\ It is known that the early works of M. Gorky, including “The Old Woman Izergil,” became extremely popular in the Old and New Worlds in the 1900s: they were translated into all major European languages, and A. Conan Doyle could well have been with them familiar. In addition, the heroic-romantic aspiration of the early M. Gorky should have been close to the neo-romanticist A. Conan Doyle. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

Which is simply waiting for its hero. It is the destiny of men to perform heroic deeds, and of women to reward them for this with their love. Just remember the young Frenchman who took off in a hot air balloon last week! A gale was blowing, but since the launch had been announced in advance, he insisted on this flight. In twenty-four hours he was thrown by a hurricane one and a half thousand miles, and he fell somewhere in the middle of the expanses of Russia. This is the kind of man I have in mind. Just think about his beloved and how other women must envy her! I, too, would really like all the ladies to envy me, because I have such a husband.

“For your sake, I could do the same.”

“But you shouldn’t have done this just for my sake.” It has to happen naturally, because you simply cannot restrain yourself, because it is in your blood, because the person inside you longs to prove himself in a heroic act. Now tell me: when last month you wrote about the Wigan mine explosion 10
…in Wigan... – Wigan is a city in Lancashire, a large coal-mining region in the west of England. (Hereinafter, in some cases not specifically specified, substantive linguistic and cultural comments by I.M. Vlader from the publication: Conan Doyle A. The Lost World are used. A book for reading in English for second-year students of pedagogical institutes / Edited text, afterword . and commentary by I. M. Vlader. - L.: Education, 1974.) (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

Could you go down there yourself to help these people, despite the choking smoke?

- I went down anyway.

– You didn’t tell me about this.

– What was there to talk about here, exactly?

- I did not know that. – Gladys looked at me with interest. - It was a brave act.

- I had to do it. If you want to write a good report, you definitely need to visit the scene of the event.

– What a prosaic motive! There is no trace of romance left. And yet, whatever your motivation, I'm glad you went down the mine. – Gladys extended her hand to me with such dignity and grace that I could not resist kissing her. “Maybe I’m just a stupid woman with romantic fantasies in my head.” And yet for me they are very real, they are part of me, and therefore I cannot resist them. If I ever marry, it will only be to a famous person!

- Why not?! – I exclaimed. – Men are inspired by women like you. Just give me a chance and you will see how I will take advantage of it! In addition, you yourself said that men should look for an opportunity to accomplish a feat, and not wait until it presents itself to them. Take Clive, for example, a simple official who conquered India! 11
General Robert Clive (1725–1774) - conqueror of India and the first British governor of Bengal. (Note per.)

Damn it, the world will hear about me!

My Irish ardor made Gladys laugh again.

- And what? - she said. – You have everything you need for this – youth, health, strength, education, energy. I already regretted starting this conversation, but now I’m glad, very glad, because it awakened such thoughts in you!

- And if I can...

Her soft hand, like warm velvet, touched my lips.

- Say no more, sir! You should have reported for evening duty at your editorial office half an hour ago; I still didn’t dare remind you of this. Maybe someday, when you have won your place in the world, we will return to this conversation.

So I found myself outside again on this foggy November evening; when I was chasing my tram to Camberwell 12
...Camberwell... – See vol. 1 present. ed., commentary on p. 396. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

My heart was burning. I firmly decided that I must, without wasting a single day, find for myself a noble deed worthy of my beloved. But who, who in this vast world could then imagine what incredible form this act would take and what unusual steps would lead me to this?

After all, the reader may feel that the first chapter has nothing to do with my story; nevertheless, without it there would be no story at all, because only when a person goes out to meet the world with the thought that there is always the opportunity to accomplish a feat, and with an ardent desire in his heart to find his way, only then he will not regret changes his established life, as I did, and rushes in search of an unknown country, illusory and mystical, where great adventures and great rewards await him.

You can imagine how I, an unremarkable employee of the Daily Gazette, suffered in my office, overwhelmed by a passionate desire right now, if possible, to accomplish a feat worthy of my Gladys! What motivated her when she invited me to risk my life for her glory? Heartless? Or maybe selfishness? Such a thought could have occurred to a mature person, but not to an ardent twenty-three-year-old youth burning in the flames of first love.

Chapter II
Try your luck with Professor Challenger

I've always liked McArdle, our news editor - a grouchy, hunched red-haired old man; I hope that he liked me too. Of course, Beaumont was the real boss; but he lived in a rarefied atmosphere of some transcendental Olympian heights, from where it was impossible to discern events less significant than an international crisis or a split in the cabinet. Sometimes we saw him walking alone and majestically into the holy of holies - to his office; his gaze was foggy, and his thoughts were hovering somewhere over the Balkans or the Persian Gulf. For us, he was someone unearthly, while McArdle was his first deputy, with whom we had to deal. When I entered the room, the old man nodded at me and pushed his glasses up onto his bald head.

“So, Mr. Malone, from what I hear, things are looking up for you,” he said affably in a Scottish accent.

I thanked him.

– The report on the coal mine explosion was simply magnificent. Like the Southwark fire 13
Southwark is an administrative borough in South London. (Note per.)

There is real insight in your descriptions. So why do you need me?

“I wanted to ask you a favor.”

His eyes darted around in fear, avoiding meeting mine.

- Hmm, what do you mean?

“Do you think, sir, that you could send me from our newspaper on some task or special assignment?” I would do my best to successfully deal with it and bring you good material.

“What kind of assignment are you talking about, Mr. Malone?”

“Something, sir, that involves adventure and danger.” I'm really ready to do everything that depends on me. The more difficult the task, the more it will suit me.

“It seems like you just can’t wait to give up your own life.”

– More precisely, to find a worthy use for it, sir.

“My dear Mr. Malone, this is all very... very sublime. But I'm afraid that the days of this kind of assignment are already over. The expenses for a “special assignment,” as you deigned to put it, are unlikely to be repaid by its results. And, of course, only an experienced person with a name who enjoys the trust of the public can handle such a matter. Large white spots on the map have long been developed, and there is no room left for romance on earth. However... wait a minute! – he suddenly added, and a smile crossed his face. – The mention of white spots on the map gave me an idea. How about exposing one fraudster - a modern-day Munchausen - and making him a laughing stock? You could publicly call him out for lying because he deserves it! Eh, that would be great! How do you like this proposal?

– Anywhere, for anything – I’m ready for anything.

McArdle thought for a few minutes.

“I just don’t know if you can establish contact or at least talk to this person,” he finally said. – Although, it seems that you have some kind of talent for establishing relationships with people - I think it’s a matter of mutual understanding, some kind of animal magnetism 14
…animal magnetism... – According to some scientific, but mostly pseudo-scientific ideas of the 19th century, a special vital force that causes in a person the ability to influence people hypnotically or telepathically. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

The vitality of youth or something like that. I feel this myself.

-You are very kind to me, sir.

“Then why don’t you try your luck with Professor Challenger of Enmore Park?”

I have to say that this left me a little overwhelmed.

- With Challenger?! – I exclaimed. – With Professor Challenger, the famous zoologist? The same one that broke the head of Blundell from the Telegraph. 15
...from “Telegraph”... – “Daily Telegraph” – see vol. 1st present. ed. comment on p. 393. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

The news editor smiled grimly.

- So you refuse? Didn't you just say that adventure beckons you?

“But only in the interests of business, sir,” I replied.

- That's it. I don't think Challenger is always so hot-tempered. It seems to me that Blundell approached him at the wrong time, or perhaps in an inappropriate manner. Maybe you will be lucky and show more tact when communicating with the professor. I'm sure there's definitely something here that you're looking for, and the Gazette would be happy to print it.

“I actually know almost nothing about Challenger,” I said. “I only remember his name because of the trial over the Blundell incident.”

“I have some sketches, Mr. Malone, that might help you.” I've been following the professor for some time now. - McArdle took out a sheet of paper from the desk drawer. - Here is the general information I collected about him. I will briefly give you only the most important things.

"Challenger, George Edward. Born in Largs, Scotland in 1863. He graduated from school in Largs, then from the University of Edinburgh. In 1892 - assistant at the British Museum. In 1893 - Assistant Curator of the Department of Comparative Anthropology 16
…anthropology... - Anthropology (from the Greek ?nthr?pos - man and logos - word, concept, doctrine) - the doctrine of the origin and evolution of man. It emerged as an independent science in the middle of the 19th century. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

That same year, he resigned from this position as a result of acrimonious exchanges with management. Awarded the Creyston Medal for scientific works in the field of zoology. He is a member of a number of foreign scientific societies - there is a whole paragraph in small print: Belgian Scientific Society, American Academy of Sciences in La Plata 17
…in La Plata...– La Plata is a city in Argentina, the administrative center of the province of Buenos Aires. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

And so on and so forth. Former President of the Society of Paleontologists 18
…British Association... – That is, the British Association for the Diffusion of Scientific Knowledge. Founded in 1831, it holds annual forums of scientists with reports on the latest scientific achievements. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

H Section of the British Association 19
…paleontologists... - Paleontology (from the Greek palaiуs - ancient, ontos - being - and logos - word, concept, doctrine) is the science of extinct plants and animals preserved only in the form of fossil remains. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

… etc. Publications: “Some Observations on the Structure of the Kalmyk Skull,” “Notes on the Evolution of Vertebrates,” and numerous articles, including “Weisman’s Fundamental Error 20
…Weisman's error... – According to the theory of the German neo-Darwinist biologist August Weismann (1834–1914), the transmission of hereditary characteristics occurs thanks to special carriers of genetic information contained in the germ plasm. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

“, which caused a heated debate at the Zoological Congress in Vienna. Hobbies: hiking, mountaineering. Address: Enmore Park, Kensington, West London 21
Address: Enmore Park, Kensington, West London. – English addresses often do not contain either the street name or house number. Instead, the name of the house (here: Enmore Park), area (here: Kensington) and part of the city (here: West London) are given. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

Here, take this for now, I have nothing else for you today.

I put the piece of paper in my pocket.

“Just a minute, sir,” I blurted out hastily when I realized that I was no longer seeing McArdle’s red face, but his pink bald head. “I still don’t understand why I should interview this gentleman.” What did he do?

The editor's red face appeared before my eyes again.

“Two years ago, Challenger went alone on an expedition to South America. Came back last year. He has undoubtedly been to South America, but refuses to say where. The professor began to talk about his adventures very vaguely, and when someone began to find fault with the details, he completely closed himself off like an oyster. Either something amazing really happened to this person, or he breaks all records of lying, which is much more likely. Challenger has several damaged photographs that are said to be fakes. He is so hot-tempered that he immediately attacks those who start asking him questions, and simply sends reporters down the stairs. From my point of view, due to his passion for science, he is obsessed with murder and delusions of grandeur. Just the man you need, Mr. Malone. Now go ahead and see what you can squeeze out of it. You are old enough boy to stand up for yourself. In any case, you are protected by the Employers' Liability Act.

His grinning red face again turned into a pink oval of a bald spot, bordered by a reddish fuzz of hair. Our conversation ended here.

Leaving the editorial office, I headed to the Savage club. 22
London Club of Actors, Painters, Entertainers, etc.; founded in 1857. (Note per.)

But instead of going there, he leaned on the parapet on the Adelphi terrace 23
Sadelphi... - Variety Theater in London. (Commentary by Candidate of Philology, Associate Professor A.P. Krasnyashchikh)

And he began to look thoughtfully at the leisurely dark waters of the river. I always thought better in the fresh air. I took out a sheet of paper with a list of Professor Challenger's achievements and re-read it by the light of an electric torch. After this, what I could only call inspiration awakened in me. As a newspaperman, based on what I heard, I understood that I had no chance of establishing contact with this absurd professor. But the legal proceedings, mentioned twice in his short biography, could only mean one thing - Challenger was fanatically devoted to science. So maybe this is a vulnerable spot through which I can get close to him? Anyway, I had to try.

It is interesting to imagine what would have happened if dinosaurs had not gone extinct, but still lived in some part of the Earth. Surely this would be of interest to all scientists. The reader has a good opportunity to travel to such a place with the help of Arthur Conan Doyle's book The Lost World. The novel was published about a century ago, but remains a popular adventure work and has been filmed more than once. Events quickly follow one another, the writer does not stop to reason, the characters find themselves in dangerous situations, you worry about them and don’t notice how you turn page after page. This book was the first in a series about the adventures of Challenger.

The novel tells the story of a unique British expedition into the uncharted lands of America. Professor Challenger found the notes of a deceased scientist, which told about a lost world. Civilization has not reached there, and therefore dinosaurs, apes and primitive people still live there. Using the found diary, the professor went to that place, but as proof he could only get a lizard wing and take a few photographs. This was too little to prove the existence of a lost world to the scientific community.

Aspiring journalist Edward Malone wants to win the heart of his beloved, and therefore asks the publisher for a more difficult task in order to impress the girl. Then he is sent to interview the taciturn and strange Professor Challenger. The journalist manages to find a common language with the professor, and subsequently goes with him on a scientific expedition in search of a lost world. Skeptical scientist Summerlee and traveler Roxton also go with them. What awaits them in uncharted lands? What dangers do they pose?

The work belongs to the Fantasy genre. It was published in 1912 by the White City publishing house. The book is part of the Professor Challenger series. On our website you can download the book "The Lost World" in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format or read online. The book's rating is 4.45 out of 5. Here, before reading, you can also turn to reviews from readers who are already familiar with the book and find out their opinion. In our partner's online store you can buy and read the book in paper form.

Current page: 1 (book has 15 pages in total)

Arthur Conan Doyle
lost World

© Translation. Volzhina N.A., succession, 2017

© Nerucheva V.A., ill., 2017

© AST Publishing House LLC, 2017

* * *

Chapter I
Man is the creator of his own glory

Mr. Hungerton, my Gladys's father, was incredibly tactless and looked like an unkempt cockatoo with fluffy feathers, very good-natured, it is true, but preoccupied exclusively with his own person. If anything could push me away from Gladys, it would be my extreme reluctance to have a stupid father-in-law. I am convinced that Mr. Hungerton attributed my visits to the Chestnuts three times a week solely to the values ​​of his society and especially to his speculations on bimetallism, a subject in which he considered himself a great expert.

That evening I listened for more than an hour to his monotonous chirping about the falling value of silver, the depreciation of money, the fall of the rupee, and the need for a proper monetary system.

“Imagine suddenly having to pay all the debts in the world immediately and simultaneously!” – he exclaimed in a weak but filled with horror voice. – What will happen then under the existing order of things?

I, as might have been expected, said that in that case I would be ruined, but Mr. Hungerton, dissatisfied with my answer, jumped up from his chair, scolded me for my constant frivolity, which deprived him of the opportunity to discuss serious issues with me, and ran out of the room to change his clothes. to the Masonic meeting.

Finally I was alone with Gladys! The minute on which my future fate depended had arrived. All that evening I felt like a soldier waiting for the signal to attack, when the hope of victory is replaced in his soul by the fear of defeat.

Gladys sat by the window, her proud, slender profile set off by a crimson curtain. How beautiful she was! And at the same time, how far from me! She and I were friends, great friends, but I could never get her to move beyond the kind of relationship I could maintain with any of my fellow Daily Gazette reporters—purely friendly, kind, and sex-neutral. I hate it when a woman treats me too freely, too boldly. This does not honor a man. If a feeling arises, it must be accompanied by modesty and wariness - a legacy of those harsh times when love and cruelty often went hand in hand. Not a bold look, but an evasive one, not glib answers, but a broken voice, a head hanging down - these are the true signs of passion. Despite my youth, I knew this, or maybe this knowledge was inherited from my distant ancestors and became what we call instinct.

Gladys was gifted with all the qualities that attract us so much in a woman. Some considered her cold and callous, but to me such thoughts seemed like betrayal. Delicate skin, dark, almost like that of oriental women, hair the color of a raven's wing, cloudy eyes, full but perfectly defined lips - all this spoke of a passionate nature. However, I sadly admitted to myself that I had not yet managed to win her love. But come what may, enough of the unknown! I'll get an answer from her this evening. Maybe she will refuse me, but it is better to be rejected by a fan than to be content with the role of a modest brother!

These were the thoughts wandering through my head, and I was about to break the prolonged awkward silence, when I suddenly felt the critical gaze of dark eyes on me and saw that Gladys was smiling, reproachfully shaking her proud head.

“I feel, Ned, that you are going to propose to me.” No need. Let everything be as before, it’s much better.

I moved closer to her.

- Why did you guess? – My surprise was genuine.

– As if we women don’t feel this in advance! Do you really think that we can be taken by surprise? Ah, Ned! I felt so good and pleased with you! Why spoil our friendship? You don’t appreciate at all that we, a young man and a young woman, can talk to each other so casually.

“Really, I don’t know, Gladys.” You see, what’s the matter... I could talk just as casually... well, say, with the head of the railway station. “I don’t understand where he came from, this boss, but the fact remains: this official suddenly stood up in front of us and made us both laugh.” – No, Gladys, I expect much more. I want to hug you, I want your head to press against my chest. Gladys, I want...

Seeing that I was about to put my words into action, Gladys quickly rose from her chair.

- Ned, you ruined everything! - she said. – How good and simple it can be until this happens! Can't you pull yourself together?

– But I wasn’t the first to come up with this! – I begged. - Such is human nature. That's how love is.

– Yes, if the love is mutual, then probably everything will be different. But I've never experienced this feeling.

– You with your beauty, with your heart! Gladys, you were made for love! You must love it!

“Then you have to wait for love to come on its own.”

– But why don’t you love me, Gladys? What bothers you - my appearance or something else?

And then Gladys softened a little. She extended her hand - how much grace and condescension there was in this gesture! – and pulled my head back. Then she looked into my face with a sad smile.

“No, that’s not the point,” she said. “You are not a vain boy, and I can safely admit that this is not the case.” It's much more serious than you think.

– My character?

She bowed her head sternly.

“I’ll fix it, just tell me what you need.” Sit down and let's discuss everything. Well, I won’t, I won’t, just sit down!

Gladys looked at me as if doubting the sincerity of my words, but to me her doubt was worth more than complete trust. How primitive and stupid all this looks on paper! However, maybe it’s just me who thinks so? Be that as it may, Gladys sat down in the chair.

- Now tell me, what are you unhappy with?

- I love another one.

It was my turn to jump up.

“Don’t be alarmed, I’m talking about my ideal,” Gladys explained, looking at my changed face with a laugh. “I have never come across such a person in my life.”

- Tell me what he is like! What does he look like?

- He may be very similar to you.

- How kind you are! Then what am I missing? One word from you is enough! That he is a teetotaler, a vegetarian, an aeronaut, a theosophist, a superman? I agree to everything, Gladys, just tell me what you need!

Such pliability made her laugh.

– First of all, it’s unlikely that my ideal would say that. He is a much firmer, harsher nature and will not want to adapt so readily to stupid female whims. But what is most important is that he is a man of action, a man who will fearlessly look death in the eye, a man of great deeds, rich in experience and unusual experiences. I will not love him himself, but his glory, because its reflection will fall on me. Think Richard Burton. When I read the biography of this man written by his wife, it became clear to me why she loved him. And Lady Stanley? Do you remember the wonderful last chapter from her book about her husband? These are the kind of men a woman should bow to! This is love that does not diminish, but exalts, because the whole world will honor such a woman as the inspirer of great deeds!

Gladys was so beautiful at that moment that I almost broke the sublime tone of our conversation, but I controlled myself in time and continued the argument.

“We can’t all be Burtons and Stanleys,” I said. – Yes, and such a possibility does not seem possible. At least I didn’t imagine it, but I would have used it!

– No, such cases appear at every step. This is the essence of my ideal, that it itself goes towards achievement. No obstacles will stop him. I haven’t found such a hero yet, but I see him as if he were alive. Yes, man is the creator of his own glory. Men must perform heroic deeds, and women must reward heroes with love. Remember that young Frenchman who took off in a hot air balloon a few days ago. There was a hurricane that morning, but the rise had been announced in advance, and he would never want to delay it. Over the course of a day, the balloon was carried one and a half thousand miles, somewhere to the very center of Russia, where this daredevil landed. This is the kind of person I'm talking about. Think about the woman who loves him. What envy she must arouse in others! Let them also envy me that my husband is a hero!

“I would do the same for you!”

- Just for me? No, that won't do! You must undertake a feat because you cannot do otherwise, because such is your nature, because the masculine principle in you requires its expression. For example, you wrote about an explosion in a coal mine in Vigan. Why didn’t you go down there yourself and help the people who were suffocating from the suffocating gas?

- I was going down.

– You didn’t say anything about this.

-What's special here?

- I did not know that. “She looked at me with interest. - A brave deed!

“I had no choice.” If you want to write a good essay, you need to visit the scene of the incident yourself.

– What a prosaic motive! This ruins all the romance. But still, I’m very glad that you went down into the mine.

I could not help but kiss the hand extended to me - there was so much grace and dignity in this movement.

“You probably think I’m a crazy person who hasn’t given up her girlish dreams.” But they are so real to me! I cannot help but follow them - it has become part of my flesh and blood. If I ever marry, it will only be to a famous person.

- How could it be otherwise! – I exclaimed. – Who should inspire men if not such women! Let me just have a suitable opportunity, and then we’ll see if I can take advantage of it. You say that a person should create his own glory, and not wait for it to come into his hands. At least Clive! A modest clerk, but he conquered India! No, I swear to you, I will show the world what I am capable of!

Gladys laughed at my outburst of Irish temperament.

- Well, go ahead. You have everything for this - youth, health, strength, education, energy. I felt very sad when you started this conversation. And now I'm glad that he awakened such thoughts in you.

- What if I...

Her hand, like soft velvet, touched my lips.

- Say no more, sir! You're already half an hour late for the editorial office! I just didn't have the heart to remind you of this. But in time, if you have won your place in the world, we may perhaps resume our conversation today.

And that is why I, so happy, caught up with the Camberwell tram on that foggy November evening, determined not to waste a single day in search of a great deed that would be worthy of my fair lady. But who could have foreseen what incredible forms this act would take and what strange paths I would take to achieve it.

The reader will probably say that this introductory chapter has no connection with my story, but without it there would be no story itself, for who, if not a man, inspired by the thought that he himself is the creator of his own glory, and ready for any feat , is able to so decisively break with his usual way of life and set off at random into a country shrouded in mysterious twilight, where great adventures and a great reward await him!

Imagine how I, the fifth spoke in the Daily Gazette chariot, spent that evening in the editorial office, when an unshakable decision matured in my head: if possible, today I will find an opportunity to accomplish a feat that will be worthy of my Gladys. What drove this girl who forced me to risk my life for her glorification - heartlessness, selfishness? Such thoughts can be embarrassing in adulthood, but not at the age of twenty-three, when a person experiences the heat of first love.

Chapter II
Try your luck with Professor Challenger

I always liked our Breaking News editor, the red-haired curmudgeon McArdle, and I think he treated me well too. Our real ruler was, of course, Beaumont, but he usually lived in the rarefied atmosphere of the Olympian heights, from where only such events as international crises or the collapse of the cabinet were revealed to his gaze. Sometimes we saw him marching majestically into his sanctuary, his gaze fixed on space and his mind wandering somewhere in the Balkans or the Persian Gulf. Beaumont remained out of reach for us, and we usually dealt with McArdle, who was his right hand.

When I entered the editorial office, the old man nodded at me and pushed his glasses onto his bald head.

“Well, Mr. Malone, from everything I hear, you are making progress,” he said affably.

I thanked him.

– Your essay about the mine explosion is excellent. The same can be said about the correspondence about the fire in Southwark. You have all the credentials of a good journalist. Have you come on some business?

– I want to ask you for one favor.

McArdle's eyes darted around in fear.

- Hm! Hm! What's the matter?

“Could you, sir, send me on some errand for our newspaper?” I will do my best and bring you interesting material.

-What assignment do you have in mind, Mr. Malone?

“Anything, sir, as long as it involves adventure and danger.” I won't let the paper down, sir. And the harder it is for me, the better.

– You seem not averse to saying goodbye to life?

- No, I don't want it to go to waste, sir.

“My dear Mr. Malone, you are too... too soaring.” Times are not the same. The costs of special correspondents are no longer justified. And, in any case, such instructions are given to a person with a name who has already won the trust of the public. The blank spots on the map have long been filled, and all of a sudden you are dreaming of romantic adventures! However, wait…” he added and suddenly smiled. – By the way, about white spots. What if we debunk one charlatan, a modern-day Munchausen, and laugh at him? Why don't you expose his lies? It won't be bad. Well, how do you look at it?

– Anything, anywhere – I’m ready for anything!

McArdle was lost in thought.

“There is one person,” he finally said, “but I don’t know if you will be able to make an acquaintance with him or even get an interview.” However, you seem to have a gift for winning people over. I don’t understand what’s going on here - whether you’re such a handsome young man, or it’s animal magnetism, or your cheerfulness - but I experienced it myself.

-You are very kind to me, sir.

“So, why don’t you try your luck with Professor Challenger?” He lives in Enmore Park.

I must admit that I was somewhat taken aback by this proposal.

- Challenger? The famous zoologist Professor Challenger? Isn't this the one that crushed Blundell's skull from the Telegraph?

The editor of the Latest News section smiled grimly:

- What, don’t like it? You were ready for any adventure.

- No, why? “Anything can happen in our business, sir,” I replied.

- Absolutely right. However, I don’t think he was always in such a ferocious mood. Blundell obviously got to him at the wrong time or treated him wrong. Hope you have better luck. I also rely on your inherent tact. This is just your thing, and the newspaper will gladly publish such material.

“I know absolutely nothing about this Challenger.” I only remember his name in connection with the Blundell beating trial,” I said.

“I have some information, Mr. Malone.” At one time I was interested in this subject. “He took a sheet of paper out of the drawer. – Here is a brief summary of what is known about him: “Challenger George Edward. Born in Largs in 1863. Education: Largs School, University of Edinburgh. In 1892 - assistant at the British Museum. In 1893 - assistant curator of the department at the Museum of Comparative Anthropology. In the same year he left this place, exchanging poisonous letters with the director of the museum. Awarded a medal for scientific research in the field of zoology. Member of foreign societies...” Well, here follows a long list, about ten petite lines: Belgian Society, American Academy, La Plata and so on, ex-president of the Paleontological Society, British Association and the like. Printed works: “On the question of the structure of the skull of the Kalmyks”, “Essays on the evolution of vertebrates” and many articles, including “Weismann’s false theory”, which caused heated debate at the Vienna Zoological Congress. Favorite pastimes: hiking, mountaineering. Address: Enmore Park, Kensington." Here, take this with you. I can't help you anymore today.

I hid the piece of paper in my pocket and, seeing that instead of McArdle’s red-cheeked face, his pink bald head was looking at me, I said:

- Just a moment, sir. It is not entirely clear to me on what issue this gentleman should be interviewed. What did he do?

The red-cheeked face again appeared before my eyes.

-What did he do? Two years ago I went alone on an expedition to South America. I returned from there last year. He undoubtedly visited South America, but refuses to indicate exactly where. He began to describe his adventures very vaguely, but after the first quibble he became silent, like an oyster. Apparently, some miracles happened, unless he is telling us a huge lie, which, by the way, is more than likely. Refers to damaged photographs, allegedly falsified. He was driven to such a state that he began to literally attack everyone who approached him with questions, and already sent more than one reporter down the stairs. In my opinion, this is simply a layman, dabbling in science and, moreover, obsessed with a mania for murder. That's who you have to deal with, Mr. Malone. Now get out of here and try to get everything you can out of it. You are an adult and can stand up for yourself. After all, the risk is not that great, given employers' liability laws.

The grinning red face disappeared from my eyes again, and I saw a pink oval bordered with reddish fluff. Our conversation was over.

I went to my club "Savage", but on the way I stopped at the parapet of Adelphi Terrace and looked down thoughtfully for a long time at the dark river, covered with rainbow oil stains. In the fresh air, healthy, clear thoughts always come to my mind. I took out a piece of paper with a list of all the exploits of Professor Challenger and ran through it by the light of a street lamp. And then inspiration struck me, there’s no other way to describe it. Judging by everything I had already learned about this grumpy professor, it was clear that a reporter would not get through to him. But the scandals mentioned twice in his short biography showed that he was a science fanatic. So, is it possible to play on this weakness of his? Let's try!

I entered the club. It was just after eleven, and the living room was already crowded with people, although it was still far from complete gathering. A tall, thin man was sitting in a chair by the fireplace. He turned to face me the moment I moved my chair closer to the fire. I could only dream of such a meeting! It was an employee of the magazine "Nature" - skinny, all dried out Tharp Henry, the kindest creature in the world. I immediately got down to business.

– What do you know about Professor Challenger?

- About Challenger? – Tharp frowned with displeasure. – Challenger is the same man who told all sorts of tall tales about his trip to South America.

- What fables?

- Yes, he allegedly discovered some strange animals there. In general, incredible nonsense. Later, it seems, he was forced to recant his words. In any case, he fell silent. His latest attempt is an interview given to Reuters. But it caused such a storm that he immediately realized that things were bad. This whole story is scandalous. Some took his stories seriously, but he soon alienated even those few defenders.

- How?

– With his incredible rudeness and outrageous behavior. Poor Wedley from the Zoological Institute also ran into trouble. I sent him a letter with the following content: “ The President of the Zoological Institute expresses his respect to Professor Challenger and would consider it a courtesy on his part if he would do the Institute the honor of attending its next meeting" The answer was completely obscene.

- Are you kidding!

– In a very softened form, it sounds like this: “ Professor Challenger expresses his respect to the President of the Zoological Institute and will consider it a courtesy on his part if he goes to hell».

- Lord God!

“Yes, old Wadley must have said the same thing.” I remember his cry at the meeting: “In fifty years of communication with scientists...” The old man completely lost his footing.

- Well, what else can you tell me about this Challenger?

- But, as you know, I am a bacteriologist. I live in a world that is visible through a microscope with a magnification of nine hundred times, and what is revealed to the naked eye is of little interest to me. I stand guard at the very limits of the Knowable, and when I have to leave my office and encounter people, clumsy and rude creatures, it always throws me off balance. I am an outsider, I have no time for gossip, but nevertheless, some of the gossip about Challenger reached me, because he is not one of those people who can simply be brushed aside. Challenger is smart. This is a bundle of human strength and vitality, but at the same time he is a rabid fanatic and, moreover, is not shy about the means to achieve his goals. This person went so far as to refer to some photographs that were obviously falsified, claiming that they were brought from South America.

– You called him a fanatic. How does his fanaticism manifest itself?

- Yes, in anything! His latest escapade is an attack on Weismann's theory of evolution. They say that in Vienna he created a huge scandal about this.

– Can you tell me in more detail what’s going on here?

– No, I can’t right now, but our editorial office has translations of the protocols of the Vienna Congress. If you want to check them out, come on, I'll show them to you.

- That would be very helpful. I have been tasked with interviewing this subject, so I need to find some kind of clue to him. Thank you very much for your help. If it's not too late, then let's go.

* * *

Half an hour later I was sitting in the editorial office of the magazine, and in front of me lay a voluminous volume, open to the article “Weissmann against Darwin” with the subtitle “Stormy protests in Vienna. Lively debate." My scientific knowledge is not fundamental, so I could not penetrate into the very essence of the dispute, however, it immediately became clear to me that the English professor conducted it in an extremely harsh manner, which greatly angered his continental colleagues. I noticed the first three notes in parentheses: “ Shouts of protest from the seats", "Noise in the hall", "General outrage" The rest of the report was a real Chinese letter for me. I knew so little about zoological issues that I didn’t understand anything.

– You could at least translate this into human language for me! – I begged pitifully, turning to my colleague.

- Yes, this is a translation!

“Then I’d better turn to the original.”

– Indeed, it is difficult for the uninitiated to understand what is going on here.

“I just wish I could extract from all this gobbledygook one single meaningful phrase that would contain some specific content!” Yeah, this one looks like it will do. I almost even understand her. Let's rewrite it now. Let her serve as a link between me and your formidable professor.

– Will you need anything more from me?

- No, no, wait! I want to address him with a letter. If you allow me to write it here and use your address, it will give a more impressive tone to my message.

“Then this guy will immediately come here with a scandal and break all our furniture.”

- No, what are you talking about! I'll show you the letter. I assure you there will be nothing offensive there.

- Well, sit down at my table. You will find the paper here. And before you send the letter, give it to me for censorship.

I had to work hard, but in the end the results were good. Proud of my work, I read it aloud to the skeptical bacteriologist:

- “Dear Professor Challenger! Being a modest natural scientist, I followed with the deepest interest the suggestions that you expressed regarding the contradictions between the theories of Darwin and Weismann. Recently I had the opportunity to refresh my memory of your..."

- Shameless liar! Tharp muttered to Henry.

– “...Your brilliant performance at the Vienna Congress. This report, extremely clear in terms of the thoughts expressed in it, should be considered the last word in science in the field of natural science. However, there is one place there, namely: “I categorically object to the unacceptable and overdogmatic assertion that each isolated individual is a microcosm, possessing a historically established structure of the organism, developed gradually over many generations.” Do you consider it necessary, in connection with recent research in this area, to make some amendments to your point of view? Is there some tension in it? Do not refuse the courtesy to receive me, since it is extremely important for me to resolve this issue, and some of the thoughts that have arisen in my mind can only be developed in a personal conversation. With your permission, I will have the honor to visit you the day after tomorrow (Wednesday) at eleven o'clock in the morning. I remain, sir, your humble servant

Respecting you

Edward D. Malone."

- Well, how? – I asked triumphantly.

- Well, if your conscience does not protest...

“She never let me down.”

- I'll go to him. I just need to get into his office, and then I’ll figure out how to act. You may even have to sincerely repent of everything. If he has a sporting streak in him, I will only please him with this.

- Will you please? Be careful lest he hits you with something heavy. I advise you to wear chain mail or an American football suit. Well, good luck. The answer will be waiting for you here on Wednesday morning, if only he deigns to answer. He is a ferocious, dangerous figure, the object of everyone's dislike and the laughingstock of the students, since they are not afraid to tease him. It would probably be better for you if you had never heard of him.