Doctor Who_ Ghost Light - Marc Platt [19]
The music stopped and Ernest turned, his trance broken as the Doctor rose to greet the figure. ‘Josiah Samuel Smith, I presume,’ he said, crossing the room. ‘I am the Doctor, and this is...’
Josiah’s own cracked voice took up the formalities, ‘...
the Reverend Ernest Matthews of Mortarhouse College, Oxford. Your servant, sirs. Welcome to Gabriel Chase.’ He bowed to them, spreading his arms in greeting, at once reminding the Doctor of a spider welcoming flies into its parlour.
‘You can’t beat a dramatic entrance,’ declared the Doctor.
‘But it was remiss of Gwendoline not to have introduced you to each other properly,’ apologized Josiah.
Ernest Matthews scowled and sat down again. He wanted no part in these childish charades. His dignity had already been compromised, but the battle light of his crusade was not yet eclipsed. He watched Josiah Smith turn away to close the door and saw the Doctor run his finger down the back of their host’s cobwebbed jacket.
‘Dust to dust,’ he heard him mutter.
Turning back, Josiah regarded his guests. ‘Two scholars,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘I never fail to marvel at the abundance of subspecies in the genus Homo Victoriabus. ‘
Ernest rallied himself to confront Josiah, but he found the Doctor with his enfuriating smile, already tapping at one of the glass cases of mounted insects on the wall.
‘Fascinating moths,’ he enthused.
Josiah seemed eager to discuss such things at the expense of his other guest. ‘I recently made a study of this species,’ he said. ‘You will notice that there is a wide variation in markings from countryside to town.’
The Doctor managed to look surprised. ‘Extraordinary.
And have you reached a conclusion?’
‘I am certain that they are adapting to survive the smoke with which industry is tainting the land.’
Ernest had endured enough. He rose to his feet and vied with the storm outside for attention.
‘I wrote to you, sir, requesting an explanation for the extremity of your theories. You requested my presence, so I have come... only to be subjected to a series of insults from your guests and your household!’
He suddenly found his arm taken and the Doctor muttering advice in his ear. ‘Never bite the hand that feeds you, dean, at least not until after dinner.’
Ernest pulled free of the Doctor’s grip and turned back to face Josiah. ‘Well, sir? I demand an answer!’
Josiah grinned. ‘I perceive, Ernest, that you are an academic and a city man. You certainly shout like one.’ His white gloves gripped the back of the chair like claws as he hissed, ‘In the country, you will find it prudent to converse in more restrained tones!’
‘I won’t listen to such nonsense!’ insisted the dean.
The Doctor shrugged. Because he appeared to have assumed the role of umpire in this feud, he felt obliged to play both sides off against each other for maximum effect.
‘It’s just his stubborn genetic code,’ he advised Josiah. ‘The inability to adapt to new ideas is the fate of too many doomed species.’
‘No one asked your opinion, sir!’ objected Ernest.
‘Nevertheless, I suggest you concede to my wisdom... and button it!’
Ernest looked astonished, but the Doctor just smiled nonchalantly and added, ‘Why not read Darwin, instead of just condemning him.’
A squall of wind rattled the windows. Through the noise the Doctor thought he could hear the distant scream of a terrified explorer.
Ace was not sure she could cope with Gwendoline: she had met rich kids with proper educations before and they had always been real pains. Gwendoline was a bit of a prim and proper job too. She was friendly enough as she led Ace up through the house to her room, but she never asked where Ace had come from. When Ace asked exactly where the house was, she looked confused and came out with some spiel about how the place belonged to her guardian, and how good he was, and a great naturalist too — Ace would see when she met him.
Ace did not exactly