My friend’s hope—or perhaps his fear—was not going to come true.
When I arrived at the office on Wednesday morning, I found a letter waiting for me. It had been posted from West Kensington, and my name was written across the envelope in handwriting that looked like a row of twisted barbed wire.
The letter read:
“Enmore Park, W.
“Sir,
“I have received your letter in which you claim to agree with my views. I am not aware that my views require approval from either you or anyone else.
“You also used the word ‘speculation’ when referring to my work on Darwinism. I must tell you that I find that word highly insulting in this context.
“However, I have decided that your choice of words was caused by ignorance and poor judgment rather than deliberate insult. Therefore, I shall overlook it.
“You quoted one sentence from my lecture and apparently found it difficult to understand. I would have thought that anyone with even a modest intelligence could understand it. Nevertheless, if you truly require an explanation, I will see you at the time you requested.
“I dislike visitors of every kind, but I suppose I can tolerate one more.
“As for your suggestion that I might change my opinion, you should understand that I do not casually change conclusions I have reached after careful study.
“When you arrive, show this envelope to my servant, Austin. He has strict orders to protect me from the intrusive fools who call themselves journalists.
“Yours faithfully,
“George Edward Challenger.”
I read the letter aloud to Tarp Henry, who had arrived early that morning to hear how my experiment had gone.
He listened quietly.
Then he said, “There’s some new medicine—something better than arnica. You may need it.”
Some people have a very strange idea of what counts as a joke.
It was nearly half past ten when I finally received the message.
I quickly hired a taxi and headed for Enmore Park.
The Professor’s house was an impressive building with a large entrance and tall windows hidden behind heavy curtains.
There was no doubt that Challenger was a wealthy man.
The door was opened by a strange-looking man of uncertain age. He was dark-skinned, thin, and dry-looking, and wore a short dark jacket with brown leather gaiters.
I later discovered that he was the Professor’s chauffeur.
Apparently, he had taken the place of several butlers who had left the job rather suddenly.
He looked me over with a sharp blue eye.
“Expected?” he asked.
“I have an appointment.”
“Got your letter?”
I handed him the envelope.
“Right.”
That seemed to be all he had to say.
He led me down the hallway.
Then a small woman suddenly stepped out of the dining room.
She was lively and attractive, with dark eyes and a distinctly French appearance.
“One moment,” she said.
She turned to the chauffeur.
“You can wait, Austin.”
Then she looked at me.
“Come in here, please.”
I followed her.
“Have you met my husband before?”
“No, madam. I have not had the pleasure.”
“Then I must apologize in advance.”
She lowered her voice.
“My husband is a perfectly impossible person. Absolutely impossible.”
I smiled awkwardly.
“If you know that beforehand, you’ll be better prepared to deal with him.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“There’s one thing you must remember.”
She looked serious.
“If he becomes violent, get out of the room immediately. Don’t stand there arguing with him.”
“Has that happened before?”
“Several people have been injured because they didn’t leave quickly enough.”
She sighed.
“Then there are complaints, scandals, and embarrassment for the whole family.”
She studied me.
“I suppose you aren’t here to ask about South America?”
I couldn’t lie to her.
“Actually, that is exactly why I’ve come.”
Her expression changed.
“Oh, dear.”
She shook her head.
“That’s his most dangerous subject.”
“You don’t believe his story?”
“I’m not surprised that you don’t.”
She leaned closer.
“But whatever you do, don’t tell him that.”
“Why not?”
“It makes him furious.”
She spoke quickly.
“Just pretend you believe him. You may survive the interview that way.”
“Does he actually believe his own story?”
“Completely.”
She smiled sadly.
“That’s the strange thing. He may be the most honest man I’ve ever known. He genuinely believes everything he says.”
I wasn’t sure whether that made me feel better.
“Don’t stay here too long,” she continued. “He may become suspicious.”
She pointed toward the hallway.
“And if he really becomes dangerous, ring the bell and keep him away from you until I arrive.”
“You can control him?”
“Usually.”
With that encouraging piece of advice, she sent me back to Austin.
Austin had been standing silently nearby throughout the entire conversation, looking like a statue.
He led me to the end of the hallway.
He knocked on a door.
A tremendous roar came from inside.
Austin opened the door.
And I found myself face to face with Professor Challenger.
He was sitting in a revolving chair behind a huge desk covered with books, maps, and diagrams.
As I entered, he spun around to face me.
I had expected an unusual man.
I had not expected anything like this.
His sheer presence was overwhelming.
He was enormous.
His head was the largest human head I had ever seen.
His face was red and powerful-looking, and his thick black beard spread down across his chest like a great dark fan.
His black hair was brushed forward into a strange curved lock over his massive forehead.
His eyes were blue-gray, sharp and extremely intelligent, hidden beneath heavy black eyebrows.
His shoulders were enormous, and his chest looked like a barrel.
Only his upper body was visible above the desk, but his two huge hands rested on it, covered with long black hair.
Then there was his voice.
It was deep, loud, and powerful enough to shake the room.
That was my first impression of the notorious Professor Challenger.
“Well?”
He stared at me without the slightest hint of friendliness.
“What do you want?”
I knew I had to keep up my deception a little longer.
“You were kind enough to give me an appointment, sir.”
I held up the envelope.
He picked up my letter from the desk and looked at it.
“Oh, you’re the young man who can’t understand simple English.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“And you approve of my conclusions, if I remember correctly?”
“Completely, sir. Completely.”
I said it with as much confidence as I could manage.
“Really?”
His expression became sarcastic.
“That certainly makes my argument much stronger.”
He looked me up and down.
“Your age and appearance make your support especially valuable.”
I wasn’t sure whether he was mocking me.
He continued.
“At least you’re preferable to that pack of fools in Vienna.”
He glared at me.
“They were nothing but a noisy crowd. Their collective stupidity was no less offensive than the foolishness of a single British journalist.”
“They certainly treated you badly,” I said.
“I don’t need your sympathy.”
His voice became colder.
“I can fight my own battles.”
He leaned back.
“Put me alone with my back against a wall, and I am perfectly happy.”
Then he looked impatiently at his watch.
“Now, let us finish this visit as quickly as possible.”
He tapped my letter.
“You apparently have some objections to the argument I presented in my paper.”
There was something brutally direct about him.
He gave me no room to escape.
I had to continue pretending.
At first, the plan had seemed so simple.
Now I desperately wished I had thought of something better.
I tried to smile confidently.
“I am only a student, of course.”
I spoke carefully.
“Perhaps not even that. I am simply someone who is very interested in the subject.”
I paused.
“Still, I wondered whether you were a little too hard on Weissmann.”
I watched his face.
“Hasn’t later scientific research tended to support his position?”
“What research?”
His voice was suddenly very calm.
That frightened me more than shouting would have.
“Well…”
I hesitated.
“Obviously, I don’t mean that there is any definite evidence.”
I tried to sound intelligent.
“I was only referring to the general direction of modern scientific thinking.”
He leaned forward.
“I assume you know that the cranial index is a constant factor?”
“Naturally.”
“And that telegony remains an unresolved subject?”
“Certainly.”
“And that the germ plasm is different from the parthenogenetic egg?”
“Of course.”
I was becoming bolder.
“But what does any of that prove?”
He asked the question almost gently.
I swallowed.
“Ah…”
I nodded.
“Indeed. What does it prove?”
He smiled.
“Shall I tell you?”
“Please do.”
Suddenly his voice exploded.
“It proves that you are one of the biggest frauds in London!”
He shot to his feet.
“You are a miserable journalist pretending to understand science when you haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about!”
I was shocked.
Only then did I realize something else.
For all his enormous head, chest, and shoulders, he was actually quite short.
His head barely reached my shoulder.
He looked like a miniature Hercules, with all his strength packed into his broad body and extraordinary brain.
“Gibberish!” he roared.
He leaned across the desk.
“That’s what I’ve been giving you—scientific gibberish!”
“Professor—”
“Did you honestly think you could deceive me?”
He pointed at my head.
“With that tiny little brain of yours?”
His face was turning redder by the second.
“You journalists think you’re all-powerful, don’t you?”
“You believe your praise can make a man famous and your criticism can destroy him.”
He slammed his fist against the desk.
“Everyone is supposed to bow to you!”
“One person gets your approval. Another gets your criticism.”
He pointed at me.
“I know your kind!”
“You’ve forgotten your proper place.”
“You are nothing but swollen little windbags!”
He stepped around the desk.
“But I’ll put you back in yours.”
He came closer.
“You thought you could get away with this?”
“You were warned.”
He pointed toward the door.
“But you came anyway.”
He smiled fiercely.
“Now you’ve taken the risk yourself.”
I began backing toward the door.
“Listen, Professor.”
I opened it.
“You can insult me as much as you like, but there’s a limit.”
“You are not going to attack me.”
“Are you sure?”
He slowly moved toward me.
Then he stopped and pushed his enormous hands into the pockets of his short jacket.
“I’ve thrown several journalists out of this house.”
“You’ll be the fourth or fifth.”
He smiled.
“On average, each one has cost me three pounds fifteen.”
“Expensive, but necessary.”
He began walking toward me again.
“Why shouldn’t you join them?”
“I think you probably will.”
He moved strangely, almost like a dancer, placing each foot carefully in front of the other.
I could have run straight through the hallway and out the front door.
But that would have been humiliating.
Besides, something inside me was changing.
I had been completely in the wrong when I came here.
But his threats had made me angry enough to forget that.
“Keep your hands off me,” I warned him.
“I’m not going to tolerate this.”
“Oh?”
His black mustache lifted into a mocking smile.
“You won’t tolerate it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Professor!”
I straightened up.
“What do you think you’re going to do?”
“I’m fifteen stone, I’m strong, and I play center three-quarter for the London Irish every Saturday.”
I pointed at myself.
“I’m not exactly helpless.”
That was when he attacked.
He rushed straight at me.
Luckily, I had already opened the door.
Otherwise, we might have smashed straight through it.
Instead, we went rolling down the hallway together.
We crashed into a chair and somehow carried it along with us.
My mouth was full of his beard.
Our arms were tangled together.
Our bodies were twisted around each other.
And that ridiculous chair was sticking out in every direction.
Austin reacted instantly.
He opened the front door.
We tumbled down the steps together in a spectacular roll.
At the bottom, the chair finally broke apart.
I landed in the gutter, while Challenger rolled a few feet away.
He jumped up immediately.
He raised his fists and breathed heavily like an angry old steam engine.
“Had enough?” he gasped.
“You damned bully!” I shouted as I got back on my feet.
For a moment, it looked as if we were about to start fighting again.
Challenger was clearly ready for another round.
Fortunately, someone else arrived.
A policeman appeared beside us with his notebook in his hand.
“What’s going on here?”
He looked at both of us.
“You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
It was probably the most sensible thing anyone had said since I arrived at Enmore Park.
He turned to me.
“Well? What happened?”
“This man attacked me.”
The policeman looked at Challenger.
“Did you attack him?”
Challenger was breathing heavily but said nothing.
The policeman shook his head.
“This isn’t the first time, is it?”
He looked at Challenger sternly.
“You were in trouble last month for the same thing.”
Then he pointed at my face.
“You’ve given this young man a black eye.”
He turned to me.
“Do you want to press charges?”
I looked at Challenger.
Then I shook my head.
“No.”
The policeman frowned.
“No?”
“I was partly responsible.”
I rubbed my bruised face.
“I came into his house when he didn’t want me there.”
“He warned me what would happen.”
The policeman closed his notebook.
“Fine.”
He looked at Challenger.
“Just don’t let this happen again.”
Then he turned toward the small crowd that had gathered.
“All right, everyone. Move along.”
He waved away a butcher’s boy, a maid, and several curious bystanders.
“Come on. Nothing to see here.”
The policeman marched down the street, pushing the crowd along with him.
Challenger looked at me.
There was something almost amused in his eyes.
Then he said:
“Come inside.”
I hesitated.
“I haven’t finished with you yet.”
The words sounded threatening.
But I followed him back into the house anyway.
Austin stood there like a wooden statue.
He quietly closed the door behind us.