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- Артур Конан Дойл
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"
You
’
ll
be
the
bravest
of
us
all
,
little
lady
,
when
the
time
comes
.
I
’
ve
been
a
blusterous
old
husband
to
you
,
dear
,
but
you
’
ll
just
bear
in
mind
that
G
.
E
.
C
.
is
as
he
was
made
and
couldn
’
t
help
himself
.
After
all
,
you
wouldn
’
t
have
had
anyone
else
?
"
"
No
one
in
the
whole
wide
world
,
dear
,
"
said
she
,
and
put
her
arms
round
his
bull
neck
.
We
three
walked
to
the
window
and
stood
amazed
at
the
sight
which
met
our
eyes
.
Darkness
had
fallen
and
the
dead
world
was
shrouded
in
gloom
.
But
right
across
the
southern
horizon
was
one
long
vivid
scarlet
streak
,
waxing
and
waning
in
vivid
pulses
of
life
,
leaping
suddenly
to
a
crimson
zenith
and
then
dying
down
to
a
glowing
line
of
fire
.
"
Lewes
is
ablaze
!
"
"
No
,
it
is
Brighton
which
is
burning
,
"
said
Challenger
,
stepping
across
to
join
us
.
"
You
can
see
the
curved
back
of
the
downs
against
the
glow
.
That
fire
is
miles
on
the
farther
side
of
it
.
The
whole
town
must
be
alight
.
"
There
were
several
red
glares
at
different
points
,
and
the
pile
of
debris
upon
the
railway
line
was
still
smoldering
darkly
,
but
they
all
seemed
mere
pin
-
points
of
light
compared
to
that
monstrous
conflagration
throbbing
beyond
the
hills
.
What
copy
it
would
have
made
for
the
Gazette
!
Had
ever
a
journalist
such
an
opening
and
so
little
chance
of
using
it
—
the
scoop
of
scoops
,
and
no
one
to
appreciate
it
?
And
then
,
suddenly
,
the
old
instinct
of
recording
came
over
me
If
these
men
of
science
could
be
so
true
to
their
life
’
s
work
to
the
very
end
,
why
should
not
I
,
in
my
humble
way
,
be
as
constant
?
No
human
eye
might
ever
rest
upon
what
I
had
done
.
But
the
long
night
had
to
be
passed
somehow
,
and
for
me
at
least
,
sleep
seemed
to
be
out
of
the
question
.
My
notes
would
help
to
pass
the
weary
hours
and
to
occupy
my
thoughts
.
Thus
it
is
that
now
I
have
before
me
the
notebook
with
its
scribbled
pages
,
written
confusedly
upon
my
knee
in
the
dim
,
waning
light
of
our
one
electric
torch
.
Had
I
the
literary
touch
,
they
might
have
been
worthy
of
the
occasion
.
As
it
is
,
they
may
still
serve
to
bring
to
other
minds
the
long
-
drawn
emotions
and
tremors
of
that
awful
night
.
How
strange
the
words
look
scribbled
at
the
top
of
the
empty
page
of
my
book
!
How
stranger
still
that
it
is
I
,
Edward
Malone
,
who
have
written
them
—
I
who
started
only
some
twelve
hours
ago
from
my
rooms
in
Streatham
without
one
thought
of
the
marvels
which
the
day
was
to
bring
forth
!
I
look
back
at
the
chain
of
incidents
,
my
interview
with
McArdle
,
Challenger
’
s
first
note
of
alarm
in
the
Times
,
the
absurd
journey
in
the
train
,
the
pleasant
luncheon
,
the
catastrophe
,
and
now
it
has
come
to
this
—
that
we
linger
alone
upon
an
empty
planet
,
and
so
sure
is
our
fate
that
I
can
regard
these
lines
,
written
from
mechanical
professional
habit
and
never
to
be
seen
by
human
eyes
,
as
the
words
of
one
who
is
already
dead
,
so
closely
does
he
stand
to
the
shadowed
borderland
over
which
all
outside
this
one
little
circle
of
friends
have
already
gone
.
I
feel
how
wise
and
true
were
the
words
of
Challenger
when
he
said
that
the
real
tragedy
would
be
if
we
were
left
behind
when
all
that
is
noble
and
good
and
beautiful
had
passed
.
But
of
that
there
can
surely
be
no
danger
.
Already
our
second
tube
of
oxygen
is
drawing
to
an
end
.
We
can
count
the
poor
dregs
of
our
lives
almost
to
a
minute
.
We
have
just
been
treated
to
a
lecture
,
a
good
quarter
of
an
hour
long
,
from
Challenger
,
who
was
so
excited
that
he
roared
and
bellowed
as
if
he
were
addressing
his
old
rows
of
scientific
sceptics
in
the
Queen
’
s
Hall
.
He
had
certainly
a
strange
audience
to
harangue
:
his
wife
perfectly
acquiescent
and
absolutely
ignorant
of
his
meaning
,
Summerlee
seated
in
the
shadow
,
querulous
and
critical
but
interested
,
Lord
John
lounging
in
a
corner
somewhat
bored
by
the
whole
proceeding
,
and
myself
beside
the
window
watching
the
scene
with
a
kind
of
detached
attention
,
as
if
it
were
all
a
dream
or
something
in
which
I
had
no
personal
interest
whatever
.
Challenger
sat
at
the
centre
table
with
the
electric
light
illuminating
the
slide
under
the
microscope
which
he
had
brought
from
his
dressing
room
.
The
small
vivid
circle
of
white
light
from
the
mirror
left
half
of
his
rugged
,
bearded
face
in
brilliant
radiance
and
half
in
deepest
shadow
.
He
had
,
it
seems
,
been
working
of
late
upon
the
lowest
forms
of
life
,
and
what
excited
him
at
the
present
moment
was
that
in
the
microscopic
slide
made
up
the
day
before
he
found
the
amoeba
to
be
still
alive
.
