English fiction; Horror tales, English; Short stories, English
Lord Linchmere! I had vaguely heard the name, but could not for the
instant recall anything about him. Following the footman, I was shown
into a large, book-lined room in which there was seated behind a
writing-desk a small man with a pleasant, clean-shaven, mobile face, and
long hair shot with grey, brushed back from his forehead. He looked me
up and down with a very shrewd, penetrating glance, holding the card
which the footman had given him in his right hand. Then he smiled
pleasantly, and I felt that externally at any rate I possessed the
qualifications which he desired.
“You have come in answer to my advertisement, Dr. Hamilton?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you fulfil the conditions which are there laid down?”
“I believe that I do.”
“You are a powerful man, or so I should judge from your appearance.”
“I think that I am fairly strong.”
“And resolute?”
“I believe so.”
“Have you ever known what it was to be exposed to imminent danger?”
“No, I don’t know that I ever have.”
“But you think you would be prompt and cool at such a time?”
“I hope so.”
“Well, I believe that you would. I have the more confidence in you
because you do not pretend to be certain as to what you would do in a
position that was new to you. My impression is that, so far as personal
qualities go, you are the very man of whom I am in search. That being
settled, we may pass on to the next point.”
“Which is?”
“To talk to me about beetles.”
I looked across to see if he was joking, but, on the contrary, he was
leaning eagerly forward across his desk, and there was an expression of
something like anxiety in his eyes.
“I am afraid that you do not know about beetles,” he cried.
“On the contrary, sir, it is the one scientific subject about which I
feel that I really do know something.”
“I am overjoyed to hear it. Please talk to me about beetles.”
I talked. I do not profess to have said anything original upon the
subject, but I gave a short sketch of the characteristics of the beetle,
and ran over the more common species, with some allusions to the
specimens in my own little collection and to the article upon “Burying
Beetles” which I had contributed to the _Journal of Entomological
Science_.
“What! not a collector?” cried Lord Linchmere. “You don’t mean that you
are yourself a collector?” His eyes danced with pleasure at the thought.
“You are certainly the very man in London for my purpose. I thought that
among five millions of people there must be such a man, but the
difficulty is to lay one’s hands upon him. I have been extraordinarily
fortunate in finding you.”
He rang a gong upon the table, and the footman entered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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