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Professor Challenger replied that he reserved such information for good reasons of his own, but would be prepared to give it with proper precautions to a committee chosen from the audience. Would Mr. Summerlee serve on such a committee and test his story in person? Mr. Summerlee: "Yes, I will."
Challenger was up the tree, and Summerlee was not fit for the effort. The only chance was to get the guns and try a rescue. Of course they may scupper them at once in revenge. I don't think they would touch Challenger, but I wouldn't answer for Summerlee. But they would have had him in any case. Of that I am certain.
He is making notes and consulting books at the central table, as calmly as if years of placid work lay before him. He writes with a very noisy quill pen which seems to be screeching scorn at all who disagree with him. Summerlee has dropped off in his chair and gives from time to time a peculiarly exasperating snore. Lord John lies back with his hands in his pockets and his eyes closed.
"I confess that I do not see what we can hope for here," said Professor Summerlee. "At the same time," said Challenger, his great voice booming strangely amid the silence, "it is difficult for us to conceive that out of seven millions of people there is only this one old woman who by some peculiarity of constitution or some accident of occupation has managed to survive this catastrophe."
Is it possible that the work is incompletely done that others may have survived besides ourselves?" "That's what I was wonderin'" said Lord John. "Why should we be the only pebbles on the beach?" "It is absurd to suppose that anyone besides ourselves can possibly have survived," said Summerlee with conviction.
"Surely we could get down." "How about the Indians in the cave?" Summerlee objected. "There are no Indians in any of the caves above our heads," said I. "They are all used as barns and store-houses. Why should we not go up now at once and spy out the land?"
There is not a greater difference in quality between a brick-bat and a gas than there is between oxygen and ether. They are different planes of matter. They cannot impinge upon one another. Come, Challenger, you could not defend such a proposition." "My good Summerlee, this etheric poison is most certainly influenced by material agents. We see it in the methods and distribution of the outbreak.
It disregards so petty a thing as its own physical dissolution as completely as it does all other limitations upon the plane of matter. Am I right, Professor Summerlee?" Summerlee grumbled an ungracious assent. "With certain reservations, I agree," said he.
He spoke slowly, and there was a vibration of feeling in his sonorous voice. "I do not acquiesce," said Summerlee firmly. "I don't see that it matters a row of pins whether you acquiesce or whether you don't," remarked Lord John. "You've got to take it, whether you take it fightin' or take it lyin' down, so what's the odds whether you acquiesce or not?
He roared with amusement when he saw the oxygen cylinders upon the porter's trolly behind us. "So you've got them too!" he cried. "Mine is in the van. Whatever can the old dear be after?" "Have you seen his letter in the Times?" I asked. "What was it?" "Stuff and nonsense!" said Summerlee harshly. "Well, it's at the bottom of this oxygen business, or I am mistaken," said I.
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