CHAPTER THE FIRST.

DR. KINNEAR sat in his study somewhat later than usual to-night, and seemed to be more than ever absorbed in his task of writing the great paper which was destined to cause such a sensation at the forthcoming meeting of the Philosophical and Scientific Society. Now' and again he paused in his labours, and, rising from his chair, paced the room with an air of nervous excitement, stopping occasionally to watch the progress of his experiments, or to re-adjust some complicated piece of apparatus. What a little, dry, shrivelled-up old man he looked, as he buried himself again in his leather chair, and fell to writing with renewed vigour, interrupted only by occasional pauses to turn over the leaves of some of the musty old volumes which lay heaped up around him. Here was, indeed, a splendid example of the enthusiasm of scientific research, and of the happiness which fills an active, intellectual mind, when absorbed in the labours of some patient and interesting investigation.

      Not that the doctor was exactly the ordinary type of a scientific specialist of the present day, devoting himself exclusively either to the microscopic study of diatoms, or to a search after microbes and bacilli, or to the chemical investigation of the α and β products of various organic compounds, with names too long to pronounce or even write in full. He had wider sympathies and a more extensive knowledge of men and things, and did not care to confine all his energies to a single branch of a special subject.

      But at the time of our story he had become intensely interested in a phenomenon which was absorbing a great deal of attention in the scientific world. Some great geological changes were apparently working in the strata immediately beneath London, which called forth much speculation as to what might be in store for the metropolis in the not very distant future.

      Dr. Kinnear was essentially a practical man, and while not caring very much about contributing to scientific knowledge for its own sake alone, he yet took a very keen interest in a matter like this, which threatened to bring all London tumbling about his ears.

      For some long time he had been working out a hypothesis which, to his mind, explained the cause of these phenomena, and although his views had not been hitherto received with much favour by the scientific world, he had now, after patient research, so far elaborated his theory and proved his facts, that it seemed to him his paper, when published, must carry conviction to the most sceptical.

      From this engrossing occupation the doctor was aroused by the entrance into his study of a young lady, whose prepossessing appearance and intelligent countenance at once claimed more than ordinary attention.

"'DID YOU NOT HEAR THE DINNER GONG, FATHER?'"

      "Did you not hear the gong, father?" said she. "Charlie has arrived, and dinner is waiting."

      "I am coming immediately, Laura," replied the doctor, rising from his chair, and half reluctantly preparing to leave his work to follow his daughter.

      "How do you do, Weston?" said he, shaking hands with a young man of about five-and-twenty, who, judging from his free-and-easy manner and the evident signs of his complete subjugation by Laura, was apparently not only an old friend of the family, but was destined sooner or later to become an intimate member of it. In short, Charles Weston's engagement to Laura was already openly recognised by the doctor, who contented himself with stipulating that the marriage should be delayed as long as possible.

      During dinner the doctor talked enthusiastically on. the subject which had so occupied him of late.

      "You see," he said, addressing Weston: "London is situated upon a thick bed of chalk, covered by later deposits of sand and clay. Now, it has long been known to geologists that chalk dissolves rapidly in water charged with carbonic acid. If, from any reason, there should happen to be an unusual increase in the carbonic acid present in the subterranean springs, this solution will go on with sufficient rapidity to cause the local subsidences which have so alarmed everyone of late."

      "But," interrupted Weston, "why should there be any increase in the carbonic acid in the underground water?"

      "Probably from volcanic sources," replied the doctor. "There have frequently been volcanic outbursts within the region of the British Isles, and evidences are not wanting that we are approaching a period of renewed activity. Of course these changes proceed very slowly, and at present we are experiencing only what may be termed the premonitory symptoms; but if, in course of time, these symptoms increase in intensity, I shall certainly dispose of what property I possess in London, and invest the proceeds in some other locality where the subterranean conditions seem more secure. Forewarned is forearmed, and I shall not risk the loss of all I possess for the want of a little foresight."

      "It seems to me," replied Weston, "that you scientific men are always frightening yourselves by your own theories. It is lucky for mankind that everyone is not scientific, and that people in general do not understand enough of these things to believe in them."

      "So much the worse for mankind in general," said the doctor, rising to go again to his study to resume his task.

"HE TURNED SUDDENLY, AS IF A THOUGHT HAD STRUCK HIM"

      On reaching the door, he turned suddenly, as if a thought had struck him.

      "By the way, Weston," said he, "I want to warn you of that man Roberts. I hear you have recently made his acquaintance, and I think you should know that he is a dangerous man. He proposed some time ago to Laura, and was refused point blank. He is now a prominent member of a powerful secret society, whose aim is to overthrow everything, to undermine society, and to establish some kind of socialistic commonwealth in which all are to be equal in wealth and position. His acquaintanceship can do you no good, and I cannot help feeling that he has some object in view in thus suddenly taking you up."

      "I am not afraid of anything he can do," Weston said; "besides, I do not think he would trouble himself to injure me. Why should he?"

      "Well, well; take my advice, and do not get too intimate with him," said the doctor, as he closed the door, leaving Weston to enjoy a few minutes' conversation with Laura before departing for the night.

      Their conversation dwelt mainly on the subject of the doctor's warning. Weston did not feel at all disposed to give up an acquaintance because he held socialistic views. His own opinions were more than half in sympathy with the socialists, and he had even given a partial promise to Roberts to join his society himself. He wished the doctor would confine his attention to his theories about the underground solution of the chalk substratum, and leave him to choose his own friends. He had been much struck with Roberts's power of argument, and felt for the moment a little angry that the doctor should have been so suspicious of him.

      Laura, on her part, did her best to soothe him, and begged him, for her sake, to do as her father wished. Finally, she dismissed him, after extracting a reluctant promise that he would cease his intimacy with Roberts forthwith.

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CHAPTER THE SECOND.

      Charles Weston went home to bed, and, with the incidents of the evening still on his mind, soon fell asleep. He had not slept long, however, when he was conscious of being roused by a voice which he at once recognised as belonging to no less a person than Roberts himself.

      "Get up, Weston," said he, "and come with me. There's to be a great meeting to-night, and several new members are to be admitted into the Society. No excuses, now; you promised you would join us, and L have made all arrangements for your formal introduction this evening."

      After some further persuasion, Weston arose, dressed himself, and followed his companion into the open air. The streets seemed to be quite deserted, with the exception of an occasional policeman, or a solitary cab taking home some midnight reveller. After walking along interminable streets and turning innumerable corners, the two young men at length stopped before the doorway of what looked externally like an •ordinary private dwelling.

      Touching the button of an electric bell, the door opened slowly, and admitting them into what seemed in the darkness to be a moderately large hall, closed •again behind them.

      Roberts here muttered some unintelligible words, and, taking Weston's arm, followed the sound of the footsteps of a third person, whose figure was indistinguishable in the darkness.

      After traversing a long passage, they reached a small room, well illuminated by several small electric lamps. Here they found several other persons silently awaiting their turn to become initiated into the Society. Occasionally a door at the end of the room opened, and an usher called aloud the name of one of the candidates, who was thereupon conducted into the presence of the executive to take the oath and undergo other formalities of initiation.

      At last Weston's name was called, and he was led in, in company with Roberts, who was to introduce him to the president and council of the Society. Here the scene was solemn and impressive. A grave and venerable old gentleman was seated at the head of a long table, around which were gathered at least a score of others, resembling him, both in the gravity of their mien and in the dignity of their bearing. Although there were no signs of pageantry, no soldiers in uniform, nor officers with drawn swords at the doorway, there was something about the look of this solemn conclave which struck Weston with a strange feeling of awe.

      The president took but little notice of Weston's entry, except to look him straight in the face with a glance which seemed to penetrate his inmost thoughts and thus addressed him:—

      "Charles Weston, you are anxious to become a member of this Society. Our rules are few, but they must be implicitly obeyed. The penalty for their non-observance is simple: it is death. Do you accept the conditions?"

      Although somewhat surprised at the serious turn things seemed to be taking, it was now too late for Weston to retract. He had not the courage to say that he was not aware of the desperate nature of the Society, and that he would not join it upon such conditions. So he answered as boldly as he could, affecting a great deal more indifference than he really felt, in order to hide a certain amount of absolute fear, and ended by signing his name in a large book and taking a most solemn oath, the awful nature of which cannot be adequately expressed.

      After the ceremony of initiation was over, the next business was a short address by the president, detailing the progress of the Society. This took place in a larger room, which was filled with older members, as well as the new ones just admitted.

      "Gentlemen," began the president, "it is my business to-night to give you a short account of the progress of our scheme for the destruction of the metropolis. There are several new faces around me, so that perhaps it would be well if I explain again. for their benefit, the mode in which we propose to accomplish so great an end, without the use of dynamite or any other violent agency. We are simply taking advantage of the laws of Nature by assisting the solution of the chalk substratum beneath London. By its slow and imperceptible removal we shall in time bring about such violent subsidences of the surface that every building in the metropolis will be shattered. I need only remind you of what has already taken place in the salt-mining districts of Cheshire to enable you to understand the process which we are carrying out. There, as you know, the removal of salt from below has caused such a sinking of the surface as to lay several towns in ruins. In some parts of the Continent the solution of calcareous rocks, by natural agencies has resulted in the formation of large lakes, and we intend to produce similar results in London by the gradual removal of the chalk from below. Our method is very simple. For many years our large Society has been systematically at work, and we have now more than one thousand borings in different parts of London, into each of which several gallons of strong acid are daily poured. The chalk is thus dissolved, and carried away by subterranean drainage. Already our seismographs show that the crust is getting considerably weaker, and the success of our plans seems to be within a measurable distance. The extreme delicacy of our instruments will give us ample warning before the final crash comes, and we shall be able to get safely away, and contemplate from a distance the destruction of the wealth and power of our hated aristocracy. Of course, we have not succeeded in eluding the vigilance of men of science. In spite of every care to absorb by chemical means the carbonic acid evolved from the chalk during its solution, we have not been completely successful; and even this very night a paper is being read by Dr. Kinnear, which calls the attention of scientific men to the great increase in the hardness of water from London wells, and to the frequent eruptions of carbonic acid which have been noticed in parts of the metropolitan area. But the real cause of these phenomena will never be suspected, and even when the final ruin comes, it will be ascribed rather to earthquakes and volcanic agency than to the long-waited-for and patiently-expected result of the scheme of retaliation which we are all striving to carry out."

      A low murmur of applause followed these remarks, and after some more business, consisting chiefly of reading reports from each district as to the progress of the different borings, the quantity of acid poured down, and calculations as to the number of tons of chalk dissolved during the past week, the meeting broke up, and Weston found himself again in the street, too much dazed and surprised at what he had seen and heard to be capable of much conversation on his way home with Roberts.

      He felt angry with himself and angry with his com¬ panion. He felt that he had been entrapped into joining a Society of Nihilists against his will; but he was too much a man of his word to retract now, and too proud to confess that his own weakness of mind had prevented him from boldly refusing the oath. Roberts, too, did not seem comfortable. There seemed to be an estrangement which was as unaccountable as it was sudden between these two young men, and each was glad when the time came for separating, on arriving at Weston's lodgings.

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CHAPTER THE THIRD.

LEFT alone with his own thoughts, Charles Weston soon realised the awkward position in which he was placed. His first impulse was to go at once to Dr. Kinnear. and warn him of the immediate necessity of his carrying out at once his plans of transferring his wealth to the colonies. But the thought of his oath restrained him, and for some time he hovered between his love for Laura on the one hand and what he considered as his word of honour on the other, trying to find some means of giving the doctor a sufficient hint, without compromising an allegiance which he regretted more and more every moment.

      At last he determined to send an urgent message to the doctor, imploring him to lose no time in disposing of his City property, but giving no explanation whatever of his sudden change of attitude.

      "I laughed at him last night," he said to himself, "but this very thing will make my message seem all the more serious in his eyes. He will know that I have some good reason for warning him, and will be content to wait for my explanation until I choose to give it."

      Thus soliloquising, he wrote a short letter to the doctor, and hurried out himself to post it, determined not to retire to rest until he had accomplished this act of duty towards Laura's father.

      Scarcely had he dropped his letter into the nearest pillar-box than he was accosted by two strangers, one of whom gave him a note, requesting his immediate presence at an interview with the president on business of importance. They likewise stated that they themselves had received orders to conduct him there without delay.

"HE SOON FOUND HIMSELF IN THE PRESENCE OF THE SOLEMN CONCLAVE"

      Weston, wondering what new surprise was in store for him, accompanied them accordingly, and soon found himself again in the presence of the solemn conclave which had so shortly before inspired him with so much awe.

      "Charles Weston," said the president, on his entry, "every act of a new member is closely watched, and the slightest suspicion of treachery is at once investigated. Our detectives find that you have posted a letter, evidently — from your extreme haste and disinclination to wait till the morning — a letter of some importance. The contents of the pillar-box have been abstracted, and now lie upon the table before you. Take from them the letter you posted, that the others may be replaced without further delay."

      Weston obeyed mechanically, and, trembling with apprehension, saw the other letters removed at once from the room.

      "Read the contents of your letter," resumed the president, "and satisfy us that it does not in any way concern the welfare of our Society."

      Weston hesitated, but immediately one of the detectives who had brought him to the room seized the letter, broke it open, and read aloud:

      The sound of this man's voice, as he read the letter, at once proclaimed him to be Roberts himself; but so completely disguised that Weston with difficulty recognised him.

      The president's face grew darker and more stern. He consulted for a few minutes inaudibly with his colleagues, and then held some conversation in a low tone with Roberts.

      "It is our unanimous opinion," said he at length, addressing Weston, "that this letter was written with treasonable intent, and by the rules of our Society your life is forfeited. Our interests are too great and the issue too serious to allow of any relaxation of our rules, and you will accordingly ——"

"LEFT ALONE AMIDST A SCENE OF RUIN AND DESOLATION"

      What the president would have said was destined to remain unknown, for at this moment Weston felt the ground beneath his feet heave convulsively. For a moment he felt sick and dizzy, then with crash after crash everything was suddenly in ruins. The council-chamber seemed to be buried in débris. The president and council had disappeared from sight beneath great heaps of rubbish. Weston himself was saved by a miracle, and was left alone amidst a scene of ruin and desolation, which for a time seemed to paralyse him with fear.

      Still the noise of falling buildings kept thundering around him: still the subsiding earth kept heaving beneath his feet; and yet he remained unharmed, the only visible living witness of this great catastrophe.

      After some moments, which seemed like hours in his suspense, there seemed to be a temporary lull, and although the sound of distant thunder still denoted that the devastation was not yet over, Weston began to recover somewhat from his alarm, and thought of moving from his position.

      But which way to turn, how to escape from the ruin around him? In the place where, a few minutes before, had existed the level streets and regular lines of houses, there were now steep hills and deep valleys, rugged with the fragments of broken masonry.

"THE MIGHTY FABRIC OF ST. PAUL'S TOTTERING IN THE GREY MORNING MIST"

      Climbing with difficulty to the top of the hill near him, he gazed round in awe at the scene of destruction which met his view. Where were the former inhabitants of this great city? Were they all buried deep beneath the fallen walls of their dwellings? No, not all, for here and there he saw people endeavouring to escape — saved, like himself, by the strange caprice of Providence. As far as he could see in the still imperfect light of early dawn, nothing but rugged piles of shapeless ruins were visible, while every few minutes low rumbling sounds and distant clouds of dust marked the still-extending wave of subsidence, as fresh buildings were added to the ever-increasing area of destruction.

      The vengeance of the Nihilists was complete; but their seismographs had failed to give them sufficient warning, and, like Samson, they had perished in company with their foes. Roberts, who had betrayed him, had paid the penalty of his perfidy, and now lay, with his companions, buried in the ruin he had helped to cause.

      Presently a louder crash resounded through the air, growing thicker and thicker with the dust of crumbling brick-work, and, looking up, Weston was just in time to recognise the mighty fabric of St. Paul's tottering in the grey morning mist, and suddenly collapsing as if overtaken by an earthquake.

*       *       *       *       *       *      *

      At this point Weston suddenly awoke, and found himself in bed in his own familiar quarters. The noise still continued, but the crash of falling buildings and tottering cathedrals now gave place to the more ordinary sound of someone beating upon his bedroom door, while the well-known voice of Dr. Kinnear called him aloud by name. Receiving at length a somewhat doubtful response from the still bewildered Weston, the doctor entered the room.

      "Come, make haste and dress," said he. "Laura, is waiting below. We have come at this early hour to take you out for a long excursion up the river; but you look unwell. Not ill, I hope?"

      In response to these anxious inquiries Weston explained to the doctor that he had been dreaming, and gave him a brief outline of his imaginary nocturnal adventures.

      "It is a very curious instance," said the doctor, "of the way in which our ideas become mingled during sleep. The warnings I gave you of the rivalry of Roberts and of the Secret Society, together with my own views on the solubility of the chalk substratum,, have woven themselves in your sleep into quite a complete plot. But although, happily, only a dream, such an end may no doubt come, one of these days, to this, proud and wealthy city. Every gallon of water from the chalk carries away with it some thirty grains of the foundations of London, and sooner or later the time will come when those foundations will be so completely undermined that, either suddenly or by slow degrees, the surface will yield to the inevitable result, of geological changes."

      With this prophetic utterance the doctor left Weston to contemplate, while dressing, the unpleasant possibility of his dream even yet being realised. Nor was it till some hours had elapsed that Laura succeeded in restoring his over-excited mind to its accustomed tranquillity and repose.

VINCENT ELSDEN.