Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's: THE LOST WORLD
London Edition – vol.101
Lord John Roxton was perched on the rooftop of the world. It wasn't the highest point on the Plateau, but it suited the hunter rather nicely. The rolling canopy stretched lush and green before him – from the edge of his treetop balcony to the distant mountains. By any normal measure, he was in the middle of nowhere; yet he sat comfortably sipping coffee from a china cup while reading the morning paper.
He knew very well the commotion this unexpected newspaper would cause. After all, how had the London Edition of the International Herald Tribune been delivered to the heart of the Amazon Basin on the very day that it had been printed? A fair question – four years ago – but here on the Plateau, that trifle magic would scarcely raise an eyebrow. No, the commotion that Lord Roxton was anticipating regarded the front page news – news that would change every dream of returning to London.
As was usual, he had been the first to rise that morning. There was kindling to split, fences to mend, and if left untended; the relentless encroachment of vines would tear down every structure the Challenger Expedition had erected over the years. The work was demanding, but the rugged hunter had long since made peace with his role. As a nobleman born to privilege, Lord Roxton had spent most of his life with idle hands. It felt good to be of use and if his meager labors allowed Marguerite to take a warm shower… well then, that was another thought altogether.
The discovery of odd new construction interrupted Roxton's chores. Mounted securely to the gatepost of the electric fence – as if this were a typical London address – was a wooden newspaper box.
"If there's a paper in that box, I'll eat my hat," John said aloud, and then he let loose a bemused whistle as he pulled free the daily news. He popped open the crisp, clean pages at the fold and the distinct smell of fresh ink tugged fondly at his memory. Then the headline hit him like a fist to the gut.
Later, as he leafed through the pages on the balcony, he couldn't help but wonder which of his housemates would be the first to share in his discovery. Surely Challenger was awake by now and busy puttering in his lab. Veronica could have slipped by him, but not likely. And Marguerite would certainly still be sleeping. One of them would venture out to the common room soon enough... a rattling in the kitchen ended his suspense.
Moments passed before a voice came from over his shoulder. "Good Heavens, is that what it looks like?"
He was glad that it was Marguerite; he wanted the two of them to be alone when she learned the news. Quickly, she came to his side and joined him on their favorite bench. He held up a finger before she could bombard him with questions.
"Yes, it's today's paper – No, I don't know where it came from – And, I found it at the front gate. But, Marguerite, I need to show you the front page," John got it all out in one breath. Then he folded the paper so that she could read the headline.
The written word had always come easily for her and she absorbed most of the article in a glance. There were two key phrases that truly shook her: Renowned scientist's estate in foreclosure... And, House of Lords sanctions Avebury heir... But the boldface headline told a deeper story: Challenger Expedition Declared Legally Dead.
John set aside his empty coffee cup and gently touched the back of his hand to her cheek. "This doesn't change anything, Marguerite," he said, but the reassurance seemed to be more for himself than for her.
END – vol.101
Use the dropdown menu for vol.102