The Hollow Earth Chronicles

Chapter 1 London, England 9th January, 1872 Lord Montague Wheelwright struggled to get out of his carriage. He was a robust man, balding head with a puffy reddish face but his legs seemed to get in the road of the rest of his body. The footman helped him down but he felt annoyed at this fussing. He had been used to being in charge for most of his life. He had been quite an active man in his youth with quite a physical prowess. Having the footman help him down from his carriage was something that berated him no end. But he was in his seventies and not as spry as he used to be. Still he exuded the appearance of someone who was more than capable of taking care of himself. He was home again after another successful annual meeting of the Explorer's Club. It was his one last great passion. He had been chair of the club for last thirty years and had overseen some of England's greatest adventures. But these days, the meetings were more of a social gathering to reminisce about their exploits from days gone by. He longed for one more great adventure to stir his heart and motivate his creaking bones. Not him personally, but to co-ordinate and oversee an expedition to some far off land and update the club on their exploits. To show off trophies and bounty from some far off place. This was what he felt was missing in his life. After each annual meeting, his thoughts of the exploits from the past were refreshed in his mind. He was almost in a trance as he walked up his path to his front door. He nearly did not see the crouched old man sitting on his porch chair. The man was dressed in a torn coat and trousers and looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in quite some time. This led Lord Montague to say. “Good sir, I have no idea why you are sitting on my porch but if it is a meal you are after, my cook can provide you with a decent meal to see you through.” The man initially did not move. All you could see of him was the unkempt hair on his head as he kept his head bowed. But on hearing Lord Montague, he slowly raised his head. This surprised the Lord somewhat as he was not sure of this man motives. He studied him closely, but the bushy beard and straggly hair did not help his Lordship in identifying him. Again his Lordship asked. “Is there something you want? Some money perhaps or work? I can help with that if you want.” But as he began to rise from the chair, Lord Montague looked deeper into his eyes. There was something familiar about those eyes. He had seen them before. He racked his brains to remember. Oh old age is such a cruel beast when trying to recall your past. But then it hit him. “Bart, is that you? No it can't be. You're dead! You were reported lost years ago! No! Impossible! But can it be really you?” The Lord was now babbling trying to make sense of what he was seeing. All through this, the man on the chair said nothing. Once he was upright, he raised his hand. It was shaking and the blackened fingers stood out noticeably. Lord Montague saw immediately that this was the result of frostbite. He had seen it before. The man then broke out a broad smile and wrapped his hand around his Lordship. “My Lord. I thought I would never see you again!” He exclaimed. “It is you Bart! Oh my word! Where have you been all this time? How did you survive your trip? Sorry I'm not letting you get a word in.” The Lord replied. “Maybe I'll take you up on that meal you offered and I'll tell you as much as I can.” Bart said. “Done! But you must tell me what happened to the rest of your party? Fitzy? And the rest of your party? Ah yes! What happened to them? Are they still alive as well?” The Lord enquired as he opened the front door and led Bart inside. Bart immediately stopped and stared at his Lordship with a look that gave his Lordship the answers to those questions were not good. “Maybe it is best that we go inside and I'll tell you all. That way it will answer all your questions.” Bart replied. “Godfrey! Godfrey!” His Lordship bellowed. A butler arrived immediately. “What do you require sir?” was the reply. Godfrey immediately gave a look of disdain when he set eyes upon Bart. “Dinner for two. We'll take it in the library, there's a good chap.” His lordship responded. “Very good sir.” Godfrey said. He then looked at the dishevelled Bart and looked back at his Lordship continuing his expression of disapproval. How dare his Lordship mix with common folk! He looked back at Bart with a frowning grimace. “Oh! And take my friend's coat and put it in the closet, there's a good chap.” His Lordship added. Godfrey took Bart's crumpled, torn, dirty coat of him and held it up with just two fingers. He kept it at arm's length from him and promptly marched out of the hallway. The two then made their way to the Library. “Scotch, neat, if I remember.” His Lordship said, grabbing a glass and pouring Bart a drink. Bart wasted no time in downing the drink in one gulp. “Saints, be praised! I have not tasted such nectar in nearly three years. I certainly have arrived back home!” Bart replied, holding the glass out for another. His Lordship poured him another and one for himself. The two sat down in front of the fire. His Lordship could not contain himself. “Well tell me all! Start with why you were on my porch and not at the club.”