Затерянный мир / The Lost World - стр. 17

“What is YOUR name, sir?” the chairman asked of my tall rival.

“I am Lord John Roxton. I have already been up the Amazon.”

“Lord John Roxton is a world-famous traveller,” said the chairman; “at the same time it would certainly be well to have a member of the Press on such an expedition.”

“Then I think,” said Professor Challenger, “both these gentlemen are elected to accompany Professor Summerlee.”

And so, our fate was decided. As I went out from the hall I found myself after some time walking under the silvery lights of Regent Street, full of thoughts of Gladys and my future.

Suddenly there was a touch at my elbow. I turned and saw the tall, thin man who had volunteered to be my companion.

“Mr. Malone, I understand,” said he. “We are to be companions. Perhaps you would spare me half an hour as I have one or two things that I want to say to you.”

When I entered his flat I had a general impression of extraordinary comfort and elegance combined with an atmosphere of masculinity. Everywhere there were mingled the luxury of the wealthy man of taste and the careless untidiness of the bachelor. Rich furs, antique things, pictures and prints, and numerous trophies, which brought me back to the fact that Lord John Roxton was one of the great sportsmen and athletes of his day.

Having indicated an arm-chair to me and placed my refreshment near it, he seated himself opposite to me and looked at me long and fixedly with his strange, reckless eyes, eyes of a cold light blue, the colour of a lake.

I examined him too: the strongly-curved nose, the dark red hair, masculine moustaches, the aggressive chin. In figure he was spare, very strongly built.

“Well,” said he, at last, “we’ve done it, my friend. I suppose, when you went into that room there was no such thought in your head?”

“No thought of it.”

“The same. And here we are. Why, I’ve only been back three weeks from Uganda, and taken a place in Scotland, and signed the lease and all. Pretty busy… How does it hit you?”

“Well, it is all in the main line of my business. I am a journalist on the Gazette.”

“Mr. Malone, don’t you mind taking a risk, do you?”

“What is the risk?”

“Well, it’s Ballinger… he’s the risk. Have you heard of him?”

“No.”

“Why, Sir John Ballinger is the best sportsman in the north country. Well, it’s not a secret that when he’s out of training, he drinks hard and gets violent… His room is above this. The doctors say that he is done unless some food is got into him, but as he lies in bed with a revolver, and swears he will put six of the best through anyone that comes near him, it is really a problem.”