buffalo, Challenger dashed past me, a terrible vision, with
red-purple face, engorged eyes, and bristling hair. His little
wife, insensible to all appearance, was slung over his great
shoulder, and he blundered and thundered up the stair,
scrambling and tripping, but carrying himself and her through
sheer will-force through that mephitic atmosphere to the haven
of temporary safety. At the sight of his effort I too rushed up
the steps, clambering, falling, clutching at the rail, until I
tumbled half senseless upon by face on the upper landing. Lord
John's fingers of steel were in the collar of my coat, and a
moment later I was stretched upon my back, unable to speak or
move, on the boudoir carpet. The woman lay beside me, and
Summerlee was bunched in a chair by the window, his head nearly
touching his knees. As in a dream I saw Challenger, like a
monstrous beetle, crawling slowly across the floor, and a moment
later I heard the gentle hissing of the escaping oxygen.
Challenger breathed two or three times with enormous gulps, his
lungs roaring as he drew in the vital gas.

"It works!" he cried exultantly. "My reasoning has been
justified!" He was up on his feet again, alert and strong. With
a tube in his hand he rushed over to his wife and held it to her
face. In a few seconds she moaned, stirred, and sat up. He
turned to me, and I felt the tide of life stealing warmly
through my arteries. My reason told me that it was but a little
respite, and yet, carelessly as we talk of its value, every hour
of existence now seemed an inestimable thing. Never have I known
such a thrill of sensuous joy as came with that freshet of life.
The weight fell away from my lungs, the band loosened from my
brow, a sweet feeling of peace and gentle, languid comfort stole