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- Артур Конан Дойл
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Even
Summerlee
and
Challenger
were
crushed
,
and
we
heard
nothing
of
our
companions
behind
us
save
an
occasional
whimper
from
the
lady
.
As
to
Lord
John
,
he
was
too
intent
upon
his
wheel
and
the
difficult
task
of
threading
his
way
along
such
roads
to
have
time
or
inclination
for
conversation
.
One
phrase
he
used
with
such
wearisome
iteration
that
it
stuck
in
my
memory
and
at
last
almost
made
me
laugh
as
a
comment
upon
the
day
of
doom
.
"
Pretty
doin
’
s
!
What
!
"
That
was
his
ejaculation
as
each
fresh
tremendous
combination
of
death
and
disaster
displayed
itself
before
us
.
"
Pretty
doin
’
s
!
What
!
"
he
cried
,
as
we
descended
the
station
hill
at
Rotherfield
,
and
it
was
still
"
Pretty
doin
’
s
!
What
!
"
as
we
picked
our
way
through
a
wilderness
of
death
in
the
High
Street
of
Lewisham
and
the
Old
Kent
Road
.
It
was
here
that
we
received
a
sudden
and
amazing
shock
.
Out
of
the
window
of
a
humble
corner
house
there
appeared
a
fluttering
handkerchief
waving
at
the
end
of
a
long
,
thin
human
arm
.
Never
had
the
sight
of
unexpected
death
caused
our
hearts
to
stop
and
then
throb
so
wildly
as
did
this
amazing
indication
of
life
.
Lord
John
ran
the
motor
to
the
curb
,
and
in
an
instant
we
had
rushed
through
the
open
door
of
the
house
and
up
the
staircase
to
the
second
-
floor
front
room
from
which
the
signal
proceeded
.
A
very
old
lady
sat
in
a
chair
by
the
open
window
,
and
close
to
her
,
laid
across
a
second
chair
,
was
a
cylinder
of
oxygen
,
smaller
but
of
the
same
shape
as
those
which
had
saved
our
own
lives
.
She
turned
her
thin
,
drawn
,
bespectacled
face
toward
us
as
we
crowded
in
at
the
doorway
.
"
I
feared
that
I
was
abandoned
here
forever
,
"
said
she
,
"
for
I
am
an
invalid
and
cannot
stir
.
"
"
Well
,
madam
,
"
Challenger
answered
,
"
it
is
a
lucky
chance
that
we
happened
to
pass
.
"
"
I
have
one
all
-
important
question
to
ask
you
,
"
said
she
.
"
Gentlemen
,
I
beg
that
you
will
be
frank
with
me
.
What
effect
will
these
events
have
upon
London
and
North
-
Western
Railway
shares
?
"
We
should
have
laughed
had
it
not
been
for
the
tragic
eagerness
with
which
she
listened
for
our
answer
.
Mrs
.
Burston
,
for
that
was
her
name
,
was
an
aged
widow
,
whose
whole
income
depended
upon
a
small
holding
of
this
stock
.
Her
life
had
been
regulated
by
the
rise
and
fall
of
the
dividend
,
and
she
could
form
no
conception
of
existence
save
as
it
was
affected
by
the
quotation
of
her
shares
.
In
vain
we
pointed
out
to
her
that
all
the
money
in
the
world
was
hers
for
the
taking
and
was
useless
when
taken
.
Her
old
mind
would
not
adapt
itself
to
the
new
idea
,
and
she
wept
loudly
over
her
vanished
stock
.
"
It
was
all
I
had
,
"
she
wailed
.
"
If
that
is
gone
I
may
as
well
go
too
.
"
Amid
her
lamentations
we
found
out
how
this
frail
old
plant
had
lived
where
the
whole
great
forest
had
fallen
.
She
was
a
confirmed
invalid
and
an
asthmatic
.
Oxygen
had
been
prescribed
for
her
malady
,
and
a
tube
was
in
her
room
at
the
moment
of
the
crisis
.
She
had
naturally
inhaled
some
as
had
been
her
habit
when
there
was
a
difficulty
with
her
breathing
.
It
had
given
her
relief
,
and
by
doling
out
her
supply
she
had
managed
to
survive
the
night
.
Finally
she
had
fallen
asleep
and
been
awakened
by
the
buzz
of
our
motor
-
car
.
