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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Стр. 134/139
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The
face
of
the
creature
was
like
the
wildest
gargoyle
that
the
imagination
of
a
mad
medieval
builder
could
have
conceived
.
It
was
malicious
,
horrible
,
with
two
small
red
eyes
as
bright
as
points
of
burning
coal
.
Its
long
,
savage
mouth
,
which
was
held
half-open
,
was
full
of
a
double
row
of
shark-like
teeth
.
Its
shoulders
were
humped
,
and
round
them
were
draped
what
appeared
to
be
a
faded
gray
shawl
.
It
was
the
devil
of
our
childhood
in
person
.
There
was
a
turmoil
in
the
audience
--
someone
screamed
,
two
ladies
in
the
front
row
fell
senseless
from
their
chairs
,
and
there
was
a
general
movement
upon
the
platform
to
follow
their
chairman
into
the
orchestra
.
For
a
moment
there
was
danger
of
a
general
panic
.
Professor
Challenger
threw
up
his
hands
to
still
the
commotion
,
but
the
movement
alarmed
the
creature
beside
him
.
Its
strange
shawl
suddenly
unfurled
,
spread
,
and
fluttered
as
a
pair
of
leathery
wings
.
Its
owner
grabbed
at
its
legs
,
but
too
late
to
hold
it
.
It
had
sprung
from
the
perch
and
was
circling
slowly
round
the
Queen
's
Hall
with
a
dry
,
leathery
flapping
of
its
ten-foot
wings
,
while
a
putrid
and
insidious
odor
pervaded
the
room
.
The
cries
of
the
people
in
the
galleries
,
who
were
alarmed
at
the
near
approach
of
those
glowing
eyes
and
that
murderous
beak
,
excited
the
creature
to
a
frenzy
.
Faster
and
faster
it
flew
,
beating
against
walls
and
chandeliers
in
a
blind
frenzy
of
alarm
.
'
The
window
!
For
heaven
's
sake
shut
that
window
!
'
roared
the
Professor
from
the
platform
,
dancing
and
wringing
his
hands
in
an
agony
of
apprehension
.
Alas
,
his
warning
was
too
late
!
In
a
moment
the
creature
,
beating
and
bumping
along
the
wall
like
a
huge
moth
within
a
gas-shade
,
came
upon
the
opening
,
squeezed
its
hideous
bulk
through
it
,
and
was
gone
.
Professor
Challenger
fell
back
into
his
chair
with
his
face
buried
in
his
hands
,
while
the
audience
gave
one
long
,
deep
sigh
of
relief
as
they
realized
that
the
incident
was
over
.
"
Then
--
oh
!
how
shall
one
describe
what
took
place
then
--
when
the
full
exuberance
of
the
majority
and
the
full
reaction
of
the
minority
united
to
make
one
great
wave
of
enthusiasm
,
which
rolled
from
the
back
of
the
hall
,
gathering
volume
as
it
came
,
swept
over
the
orchestra
,
submerged
the
platform
,
and
carried
the
four
heroes
away
upon
its
crest
?
"
(
Good
for
you
,
Mac
!
)
"
If
the
audience
had
done
less
than
justice
,
surely
it
made
ample
amends
.
Every
one
was
on
his
feet
.
Every
one
was
moving
,
shouting
,
gesticulating
.
A
dense
crowd
of
cheering
men
were
round
the
four
travelers
.
'
Up
with
them
!
up
with
them
!
'
cried
a
hundred
voices
.
In
a
moment
four
figures
shot
up
above
the
crowd
.
In
vain
they
strove
to
break
loose
.
They
were
held
in
their
lofty
places
of
honor
.
It
would
have
been
hard
to
let
them
down
if
it
had
been
wished
,
so
dense
was
the
crowd
around
them
.
'
Regent
Street
!
Regent
Street
!
'
sounded
the
voices
.
There
was
a
swirl
in
the
packed
multitude
,
and
a
slow
current
,
bearing
the
four
upon
their
shoulders
,
made
for
the
door
.
Out
in
the
street
the
scene
was
extraordinary
.
An
assemblage
of
not
less
than
a
hundred
thousand
people
was
waiting
.
The
close-packed
throng
extended
from
the
other
side
of
the
Langham
Hotel
to
Oxford
Circus
.
A
roar
of
acclamation
greeted
the
four
adventurers
as
they
appeared
,
high
above
the
heads
of
the
people
,
under
the
vivid
electric
lamps
outside
the
hall
.
'
A
procession
!
A
procession
!
'
was
the
cry
.
In
a
dense
phalanx
,
blocking
the
streets
from
side
to
side
,
the
crowd
set
forth
,
taking
the
route
of
Regent
Street
,
Pall
Mall
,
St.
James
's
Street
,
and
Piccadilly
.
The
whole
central
traffic
of
London
was
held
up
,
and
many
collisions
were
reported
between
the
demonstrators
upon
the
one
side
and
the
police
and
taxi-cabmen
upon
the
other
.
Finally
,
it
was
not
until
after
midnight
that
the
four
travelers
were
released
at
the
entrance
to
Lord
John
Roxton
's
chambers
in
the
Albany
,
and
that
the
exuberant
crowd
,
having
sung
'
They
are
Jolly
Good
Fellows
'
in
chorus
,
concluded
their
program
with
'
God
Save
the
King
.
'
So
ended
one
of
the
most
remarkable
evenings
that
London
has
seen
for
a
considerable
time
.
"
So
far
my
friend
Macdona
;
and
it
may
be
taken
as
a
fairly
accurate
,
if
florid
,
account
of
the
proceedings
.
As
to
the
main
incident
,
it
was
a
bewildering
surprise
to
the
audience
,
but
not
,
I
need
hardly
say
,
to
us
.
The
reader
will
remember
how
I
met
Lord
John
Roxton
upon
the
very
occasion
when
,
in
his
protective
crinoline
,
he
had
gone
to
bring
the
"
Devil
's
chick
"
as
he
called
it
,
for
Professor
Challenger
.
I
have
hinted
also
at
the
trouble
which
the
Professor
's
baggage
gave
us
when
we
left
the
plateau
,
and
had
I
described
our
voyage
I
might
have
said
a
good
deal
of
the
worry
we
had
to
coax
with
putrid
fish
the
appetite
of
our
filthy
companion
.
If
I
have
not
said
much
about
it
before
,
it
was
,
of
course
,
that
the
Professor
's
earnest
desire
was
that
no
possible
rumor
of
the
unanswerable
argument
which
we
carried
should
be
allowed
to
leak
out
until
the
moment
came
when
his
enemies
were
to
be
confuted
.
One
word
as
to
the
fate
of
the
London
pterodactyl
.
Nothing
can
be
said
to
be
certain
upon
this
point
.
There
is
the
evidence
of
two
frightened
women
that
it
perched
upon
the
roof
of
the
Queen
's
Hall
and
remained
there
like
a
diabolical
statue
for
some
hours
.
The
next
day
it
came
out
in
the
evening
papers
that
Private
Miles
,
of
the
Coldstream
Guards
,
on
duty
outside
Marlborough
House
,
had
deserted
his
post
without
leave
,
and
was
therefore
courtmartialed
.
Private
Miles
'
account
,
that
he
dropped
his
rifle
and
took
to
his
heels
down
the
Mall
because
on
looking
up
he
had
suddenly
seen
the
devil
between
him
and
the
moon
,
was
not
accepted
by
the
Court
,
and
yet
it
may
have
a
direct
bearing
upon
the
point
at
issue
.
The
only
other
evidence
which
I
can
adduce
is
from
the
log
of
the
SS
.
Friesland
,
a
Dutch-American
liner
,
which
asserts
that
at
nine
next
morning
,
Start
Point
being
at
the
time
ten
miles
upon
their
starboard
quarter
,
they
were
passed
by
something
between
a
flying
goat
and
a
monstrous
bat
,
which
was
heading
at
a
prodigious
pace
south
and
west
.
If
its
homing
instinct
led
it
upon
the
right
line
,
there
can
be
no
doubt
that
somewhere
out
in
the
wastes
of
the
Atlantic
the
last
European
pterodactyl
found
its
end
.
And
Gladys
--
oh
,
my
Gladys
!
--
Gladys
of
the
mystic
lake
,
now
to
be
re-named
the
Central
,
for
never
shall
she
have
immortality
through
me
.
Did
I
not
always
see
some
hard
fiber
in
her
nature
?
Did
I
not
,
even
at
the
time
when
I
was
proud
to
obey
her
behest
,
feel
that
it
was
surely
a
poor
love
which
could
drive
a
lover
to
his
death
or
the
danger
of
it
?
Did
I
not
,
in
my
truest
thoughts
,
always
recurring
and
always
dismissed
,
see
past
the
beauty
of
the
face
,
and
,
peering
into
the
soul
,
discern
the
twin
shadows
of
selfishness
and
of
fickleness
glooming
at
the
back
of
it
?
Did
she
love
the
heroic
and
the
spectacular
for
its
own
noble
sake
,
or
was
it
for
the
glory
which
might
,
without
effort
or
sacrifice
,
be
reflected
upon
herself
?
Or
are
these
thoughts
the
vain
wisdom
which
comes
after
the
event
?
It
was
the
shock
of
my
life
.
For
a
moment
it
had
turned
me
to
a
cynic
.
But
already
,
as
I
write
,
a
week
has
passed
,
and
we
have
had
our
momentous
interview
with
Lord
John
Roxton
and
--
well
,
perhaps
things
might
be
worse
.
Let
me
tell
it
in
a
few
words
.
