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Let's build a customer support chatbot using RAG and your company's documentation in OpenWebUI

আসুন OpenWebUI-তে RAG এবং আপনার কোম্পানির ডকুমেন্টেশন ব্যবহার করে একটি গ্রাহক সহায়তা চ্যাটবট তৈরি করি

Lassen Sie uns einen Kundensupport-Chatbot mit RAG und der Dokumentation Ihres Unternehmens in OpenWebUI erstellen

Creemos un chatbot de atención al cliente utilizando RAG y la documentación de su empresa en OpenWebUI

Créons un chatbot de support client en utilisant RAG et la documentation de votre entreprise dans OpenWebUI

आइए RAG और OpenWebUI में आपकी कंपनी के दस्तावेज़ों का उपयोग करके एक ग्राहक सहायता चैटबॉट बनाएं

RAGとOpenWebUIの会社のドキュメントを使用して、カスタマーサポートチャットボットを構築しましょう。

OpenWebUI에서 RAG와 회사 문서를 사용하여 고객 지원 챗봇을 구축해 보겠습니다.

Vamos construir um chatbot de suporte ao cliente usando RAG e a documentação da sua empresa em OpenWebUI

Давайте создадим чат-бота поддержки клиентов, используя RAG и документацию вашей компании в OpenWebUI.

RAG'ı ve şirketinizin OpenWebUI'daki belgelerini kullanarak bir müşteri destek sohbet robotu oluşturalım

Hãy xây dựng một chatbot hỗ trợ khách hàng bằng RAG và tài liệu của công ty bạn trong OpenWebUI

让我们使用 RAG 和您公司在 OpenWebUI 中的文档构建一个客户支持聊天机器人

How to Find Out If You're Paying for Slow Internet

Mission Generation Using Classic Machine Learning and Recurrent Neural Networks in Zombie State

জম্বি রাজ্যে ক্লাসিক মেশিন লার্নিং এবং পুনরাবৃত্ত নিউরাল নেটওয়ার্ক ব্যবহার করে মিশন জেনারেশন

Missionsgenerierung mit klassischem maschinellem Lernen und rekurrierenden neuronalen Netzwerken im Zombie-Zustand

Generación de misiones utilizando aprendizaje automático clásico y redes neuronales recurrentes en estado zombie

Génération de mission à l'aide de l'apprentissage automatique classique et des réseaux de neurones récurrents dans un état zombie

ज़ोंबी स्टेट में क्लासिक मशीन लर्निंग और रीकरंट न्यूरल नेटवर्क का उपयोग करके मिशन जनरेशन

ゾンビ状態での古典的な機械学習とリカレントニューラルネットワークを使用したミッション生成

좀비 상태에서 고전적인 기계 학습과 순환 신경망을 사용한 미션 생성

Geração de missão usando aprendizado de máquina clássico e redes neurais recorrentes no estado zumbi

Генерация миссий с использованием классического машинного обучения и рекуррентных нейронных сетей в состоянии зомби

Zombie State'te Klasik Makine Öğrenimi ve Tekrarlayan Sinir Ağlarını Kullanarak Görev Oluşturma

Tạo nhiệm vụ bằng cách sử dụng mạng lưới thần kinh định kỳ và học máy cổ điển ở trạng thái Zombie

在僵尸状态下使用经典机器学习和循环神经网络生成任务

"We will migrate to TypeScript, and then..." – how often do you hear this phrase? Perhaps, if you mainly work within a single project or mostly just start new projects from scratch, this is a relatively rare expression for you to hear. For me, as someone working in an outsourcing company, who, in addition to my main project, sees dozens of various other projects every month, it is quite a common phrase from the development team or a client who would like to upgrade their project stack for easier team collaboration. Spoiler alert: it is probably not going to be as soon of a transition as you think (most likely, ). soon never While it may sound drastic, cases, this will indeed be the case. Most people who have not undergone such a transition may not be aware of the dozens of nuances that can arise during a project migration to TypeScript. For instance, are you prepared for the possibility that your project build, which took in pure JavaScript, might suddenly start taking when using TypeScript? Of course, it depends on your project's size, your pipeline configuration, etc., but these scenarios are not fabricated. You, as a developer, might be prepared for this inevitability, but what will your client think when you tell them that the budget for the server instance needs to be increased because the project build is now failing due to a heap out-of-memory error after adding TypeScript to the project? Yes, TypeScript, like any other tool, is not free. in most tens of seconds tens of minutes On the Internet, you can find a large number of articles about how leading companies successfully migrated their projects from pure to TypeScript. While they usually describe a lot of the issues they had during the transition and how they overcame them, there are still many unspoken obstacles that people can encounter, which can become critical to their migration. JavaScript Despite the awareness among most teams that adding typing to their projects through migration to TypeScript might not proceed as smoothly as depicted in various articles, they still consider TypeScript as the to address typing issues in their projects. This mindset can result in projects remaining in pure JavaScript for extended periods, and the eagerly anticipated typing remains confined to the realm of dreams. While alternative tools for introducing typing to JavaScript code do exist, TypeScript's overwhelming popularity often casts them into the shadows. This widespread acclaim, justified by the TypeScript team's active development, may, however, prove disadvantageous to developers. Developers tend to lean towards the perception that TypeScript is the solution to typing challenges in a project, neglecting other options. exclusive and definitive solution only Next, we will consider JSDoc as a tool that, when used correctly and understood in conjunction with other tools (like TypeScript), can help address the typing issue in a project . Many might think that the functionality of JSDoc pales in comparison to TypeScript, and comparing them is unfair. To some extent, that is true, but on the other hand, it depends on the perspective. Each technology has its pros and cons, counterbalancing the other. virtually for free Code examples will illustrate a kind of from TypeScript to JavaScript while maintaining typing functionality. While for some, this might appear as a form of . Again, it all depends on how you look at it… graceful degradation progressive enhancement JSDoc and Its Extensions is a specification for the comment format in JavaScript. This specification allows developers to describe the structure of their code, data types, function parameters, and much more using special comments. These comments can then be transformed into documentation using appropriate tools. JSDoc /**
 * Adds two numbers.
 * @param {number} a - The first number.
 * @param {number} b - The second number.
 * @returns {number} The sum of the two numbers.
 */
const getSum = (a, b) => {
  return a + b
} Initially, JSDoc was created with the goal of generating documentation based on comments, and this functionality remains a significant part of the tool. However, it is not the only aspect. The second substantial aspect of the tool is the description of various types within the program: variable types, object types, function parameters, and many other structures. Since the fate of was uncertain, and many developers lacked (and still lack to this day) proper typing, JSDoc started adding this much-needed typing to JavaScript. This contributed to its popularity, and as a result, many other tools began to rely on the JSDoc syntax. ECMAScript 4 An interesting fact is that while the JSDoc documentation provides a list of basic tags, the specification itself allows developers to expand the list based on their needs. Tools built on top of JSDoc leverage this flexibility to the maximum by adding their own custom tags. Therefore, encountering a JSDoc setup is a relatively rare occurrence. pure The most well-known tools that rely on JSDoc are (not to be confused with the Closure programming language) and . Both of these tools can help make your JavaScript , but they approach it differently. Closure Compiler primarily focuses on your files by adding typing through JSDoc annotations (after all, they are just ), while TypeScript is designed for files, introducing its own well-known TypeScript constructs such as , , , , and so on. Closure Compiler TypeScript typed enhancing .js comments .ts type interface enum namespace Not from its inception, but starting from , TypeScript began allowing something similar to Closure Compiler – checking type annotations in files based on the use of JSDoc syntax. With this version, and with each subsequent version, TypeScript not only added support for JSDoc but also incorporated present in the Closure Compiler. This made migration to TypeScript more straightforward. While Closure Compiler is still being updated, used by some teams, and in JavaScript (if its rules are followed), due to support for checking files and various other updates brought by the TypeScript team, . version 2.3 .js many of the core tags and constructs remains the most effective tool for code compression .js Closure Compiler eventually lost to TypeScript From the implementation perspective, incorporating an understanding of JSDoc notation into TypeScript is not a fundamental change. Whether it is TypeScript types or JSDoc types, ultimately, they both become part of the AST (Abstract Syntax Tree) of the executed program. This is convenient for us as developers because all our everyday tools, such as ESLint (including all its plugins), Prettier, and others, primarily rely on the AST. Therefore, regardless of the file extensions we use, our favorite plugins can continue to work in both and files (with some exceptions, of course). .js .ts Developer Experience When adding typing to JavaScript code using JSDoc, it is advisable to use additional tools that enhance the development experience. is a JSDoc plugin for ESLint. This plugin reports errors in case of invalid JSDoc syntax usage and helps standardize the written JSDoc. An important setting for this plugin is the option, which offers one of the following values: , (referring to Closure Compiler), or . As mentioned earlier, JSDoc can vary, and this option allows you to specify which JSDoc tags and syntax to use. The default value is (though this has not always been the case), which, given TypeScript's dominance over other tools that work with JSDoc, seems like a sensible choice. eslint-plugin-jsdoc mode typescript closure jsdoc typescript It is also important to choose a tool for analyzing the type annotations written in JSDoc, and in this case, it will be . This might sound strange because, in this article, it seems like we are discussing its replacement. However, we are not using TypeScript for its purpose – our files still have the extension. We will only use TypeScript as a type-checking linter. In most projects where TypeScript is used , there is typically a script responsible for compiling files into . In the case of using TypeScript as a linting tool, instead of a command handling compilation, you will have a command for linting your types. TypeScript primary .js fully build .ts .js build // package.json

{
  "scripts": {
	   "lint:type": "tsc --noEmit"
  }
} If, in the future, a tool emerges that TypeScript as a linting tool for project typing, we can always replace it in this script. surpasses To make this script work correctly, you need to create a file in your project or add additional parameters to this script. These parameters include and , which allow TypeScript to check code written in files. In addition to these parameters, you can enable many others. For example, to make type checking stricter, you can use , , , , and more. TypeScript will rigorously check your code even if you are using files. tsconfig.json allowJs checkJs .js strict noUncheckedIndexedAccess exactOptionalPropertyTypes noPropertyAccessFromIndexSignature .js The TypeScript team consistently enhances the functionality of TypeScript when working with JSDoc. With almost every release, they introduce both fixes and new features. The same applies to code editors. Syntax highlighting and other DX features provided by TypeScript when working with files also work when dealing with files using JSDoc. Although there are occasional instances where support for certain JSDoc features may come later, many GitHub issues labeled with JSDoc in the TypeScript backlog indicate that the TypeScript team continues to work on improving JSDoc support. .ts .js Many might mention the nuance that when using TypeScript solely for files, you are deprived of the ability to use additional constructs provided by TypeScript. For example: , , , , , and others, as their syntax are only available in files with the extension. .js Enums Namespaces Class Parameter Properties Abstract Classes and Members Experimental (!) Decorators .ts Again, for some, this may seem like a drawback, but for others, it could be considered a benefit, as most of these constructs have their drawbacks. Primarily, during TypeScript compilation to JavaScript, anything related to types . In the case of using the aforementioned constructs, all of them are into less-than-optimal JavaScript code. If this does not sound compelling enough for you to refrain from using them, you can explore the downsides of each of these constructs on your own, as there are plenty of articles on the Internet discussing these issues. simply disappears translated Overall, the use of these constructs is generally considered an anti-pattern. On most of my projects where I use TypeScript to its full extent (with all my code residing in files), I always use a custom ESLint rule: .ts // eslint.config.js

/** @type {import('eslint').Linter.FlatConfig} */
const config = {
  rules: {
    'no-restricted-syntax': [
      'error',
      {
        selector: 'TSEnumDeclaration,TSModuleDeclaration,TSParameterProperty,ClassDeclaration[abstract=true],Decorator',
        message: 'TypeScript shit is forbidden.',
      },
    ],
  },
} This rule prohibits the use of TypeScript constructs that raise concerns. When considering what remains of TypeScript when applying this ESLint rule, essentially, only the aspect remains. In this context, when using this rule, leveraging for adding typing to files is almost indistinguishable from using TypeScript with files. typing JSDoc tags and syntax provided by TypeScript .js .ts As mentioned earlier, most tools rely on AST for their operations, including TypeScript. TypeScript does not care whether you define types using TypeScript's keywords and syntax or JSDoc tags supported by TypeScript. This principle also applies to ESLint and its plugins, including the plugin. This means that we can use this plugin and its powerful rules to check typing even if the entire code is written in files (provided you enabled the ). typescript-eslint .js appropriate parser Unfortunately, a significant drawback when using these tools with files is that some parts of these tools, such as specific rules in typescript-eslint, rely on the use of specific TypeScript keywords. Examples of such rules include , , , and others that are tied explicitly to TypeScript keywords. Fortunately, there are not many such rules. Despite the fact that these rules could be rewritten to use AST, the development teams behind these rules are currently reluctant to do so due to the increased complexity of support when transitioning from using keywords to AST. .js explicit-function-return-type explicit-member-accessibility no-unsafe-return Conclusion JSDoc, when used alongside TypeScript as a linting tool, provides developers with a powerful means of typing files. Its functionality does not lag significantly behind TypeScript when used to its , keeping all the code in files. Utilizing JSDoc allows developers to introduce typing into a pure JavaScript project right now without delaying it as a distant dream of a full migration to TypeScript (which most likely will never happen). .js full potential .ts Many mistakenly spend too much time critiquing the JSDoc syntax, deeming it ugly, especially when compared to TypeScript. It is hard to argue otherwise; TypeScript's syntax does indeed look much more concise. However, what is truly a mistake is engaging in empty discussions about syntax instead of taking any action. In the end, you will probably want to achieve a similar result, as shown in the screenshot below. Performing such a migration is significantly easier and more feasible when transitioning from code that already has typing written in JSDoc. By the way, many who label the JSDoc syntax as ugly while using TypeScript as their sole primary tool, after such remarks, nonchalantly return to their files, fully embracing TS Enums, TS Parameter Properties, TS Experimental (!) Decorators and other TS constructs that might raise questions. Do they truly believe they are on the right side? .ts Most of the screenshots were taken from the migration of files to while preserving type functionality in my library (here is the ). Why did I decide to make this migration? Because I wanted to. Although this is far from my only experience with such migrations. Interestingly, the sides of migrations often change (migrations from to undoubtedly occur more frequently). Despite my affection for TypeScript and its concise syntax, after several dozen files written/rewritten using JSDoc, I stopped feeling any particular aversion to the JSDoc syntax, as it is . .ts .js form-payload PR .js .ts just syntax Summing up: JSDoc provides developers with real opportunities for gradually improving the codebase without requiring a complete transition to TypeScript from the start of migration. It is essential to remember that the key is not to pray to the TypeScript God but to start taking action. The ultimate transition to using TypeScript fully is possible, but you might also realize that JSDoc is more than sufficient for successful development, as it has its advantages. For example, here is what a "JSDoc-compiler" might look like: // bundler.js

await esbuild.build({
  entryPoints: [jsMainEntryPoint],
  minify: true, // 👌
}) Give it a try! Do not stand still; continually develop your project, and I am sure you will find many other benefits! Also published . here

TypeScript Might Not Be Your God: A Case Study of Using JSDoc for JavaScript Projects

MR. COHENLUPE LEAVES LONDON.

Phineas Redux by Anthony Trollope, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . THE MEAGER FAMILY. here THE MEAGER FAMILY. On the day after the committal a lady, who had got out of a cab at the corner of Northumberland Street, in the Marylebone Road, walked up that very uninviting street, and knocked at a door just opposite to the deadest part of the dead wall of the Marylebone Workhouse. Here lived Mrs. and Miss Meager,—and also on occasions Mr. Meager, who, however, was simply a trouble and annoyance in the world, going about to race-courses, and occasionally, perhaps, to worse places, and being of no slightest use to the two poor hard-worked women,—mother and daughter,—who endeavoured to get their living by letting lodgings. The task was difficult, for it is not everybody who likes to look out upon the dead wall of a workhouse, and they who do are disposed to think that their willingness that way should be considered in the rent. But Mr. Emilius, when the cruelty of his wife's friends deprived him of the short-lived luxury of his mansion in Lowndes Square, had found in Northumberland Street a congenial retreat, and had for a while trusted to Mrs. and Miss Meager for all his domestic comforts. Mr. Emilius was always a favourite with new friends, and had not as yet had his Northumberland Street gloss rubbed altogether off him when Mr. Bonteen was murdered. As it happened, on that night,—or rather early in the day, for Meager had returned to the bosom of his family after a somewhat prolonged absence in the provinces, and therefore the date had become specially remarkable in the Meager family from the double event,—Mr. Meager had declared that unless his wife could supply him with a five-pound note he must cut his throat instantly. His wife and daughter had regretted the necessity, but had declared the alternative to be out of the question. Whereupon Mr. Meager had endeavoured to force the lock of an old bureau with a carving-knife, and there had been some slight personal encounter,—after which he had had some gin and had gone to bed. Mrs. Meager remembered the day very well indeed, and Miss Meager, when the police came the next morning, had accounted for her black eye by a tragical account of a fall she had had against the bed-post in the dark. Up to that period Mr. Emilius had been everything that was sweet and good,—an excellent, eloquent clergyman, who was being ill-treated by his wife's wealthy relations, who was soft in his manners and civil in his words, and never gave more trouble than was necessary. The period, too, would have been one of comparative prosperity to the Meager ladies,—but for that inopportune return of the head of the family,—as two other lodgers had been inclined to look out upon the dead wall, or else into the cheerful back-yard; which circumstance came to have some bearing upon our story, as Mrs. Meager had been driven by the press of her increased household to let that good-natured Mr. Emilius know that if "he didn't mind it" the latch-key might be an accommodation on occasions. To give him his due, indeed, he had, when first taking the rooms, offered to give up the key when not intending to be out at night. After the murder Mr. Emilius had been arrested, and had been kept in durance for a week. Miss Meager had been sure that he was innocent; Mrs. Meager had trusted the policemen, who evidently thought that the clergyman was guilty. Of the policemen who were concerned on the occasion, it may be said in a general way that they believed that both the gentlemen had committed the murder,—so anxious were they not to be foiled in the attempts at discovery which their duty called upon them to make. Mr. Meager had left the house on the morning of the arrest, having arranged that little matter of the five-pound note by a compromise. When the policeman came for Mr. Emilius, Mr. Meager was gone. For a day or two the lodger's rooms were kept vacant for the clergyman till Mrs. Meager became quite convinced that he had committed the murder, and then all his things were packed up and placed in the passage. When he was liberated he returned to the house, and expressed unbounded anger at what had been done. He took his two boxes away in a cab, and was seen no more by the ladies of Northumberland Street. But a further gleam of prosperity fell upon them in consequence of the tragedy which had been so interesting to them. Hitherto the inquiries made at their house had had reference solely to the habits and doings of their lodger during the last few days; but now there came to them a visitor who made a more extended investigation; and this was one of their own sex. It was Madame Goesler who got out of the cab at the workhouse corner, and walked from thence to Mrs. Meager's house. This was her third appearance in Northumberland Street, and at each coming she had spoken kind words, and had left behind her liberal recompense for the trouble which she gave. She had no scruples as to paying for the evidence which she desired to obtain,—no fear of any questions which might afterwards be asked in cross-examination. She dealt out sovereigns—womanfully, and had had Mrs. and Miss Meager at her feet. Before the second visit was completed they were both certain that the Bohemian converted Jew had murdered Mr. Bonteen, and were quite willing to assist in hanging him. "Yes, Ma'am," said Mrs. Meager, "he did take the key with him. Amelia remembers we were a key short at the time he was away." The absence here alluded to was that occasioned by the journey which Mr. Emilius took to Prague, when he heard that evidence of his former marriage was being sought against him in his own country. "That he did," said Amelia, "because we were put out ever so. And he had no business, for he was not paying for the room." "You have only one key." "There is three, Ma'am. The front attic has one regular because he's on a daily paper, and of course he doesn't get to bed till morning. Meager always takes another, and we can't get it from him ever so." "And Mr. Emilius took the other away with him?" asked Madame Goesler. "That he did, Ma'am. When he came back he said it had been in a drawer,—but it wasn't in the drawer. We always knows what's in the drawers." "The drawer wasn't left locked, then?" "Yes, it was, Ma'am, and he took that key—unbeknownst to us," said Mrs. Meager. "But there is other keys that open the drawers. We are obliged in our line to know about the lodgers, Ma'am." This was certainly no time for Madame Goesler to express disapprobation of the practices which were thus divulged. She smiled, and nodded her head, and was quite sympathetic with Mrs. Meager. She had learned that Mr. Emilius had taken the latch-key with him to Bohemia, and was convinced that a dozen other latch-keys might have been made after the pattern without any apparent detection by the London police. "And now about the coat, Mrs. Meager." "Well, Ma'am?" "Mr. Meager has not been here since?" "No, Ma'am. Mr. Meager, Ma'am, isn't what he ought to be. I never do own it up, only when I'm driven. He hasn't been home." "I suppose he still has the coat." "Well, Ma'am, no. We sent a young man after him, as you said, and the young man found him at the Newmarket Spring." "Some water cure?" asked Madame Goesler. "No, Ma'am. It ain't a water cure, but the races. He hadn't got the coat. He does always manage a tidy great coat when November is coming on, because it covers everything, and is respectable, but he mostly parts with it in April. He gets short, and then he—just pawns it." "But he had it the night of the murder?" "Yes, Ma'am, he had. Amelia and I remembered it especial. When we went to bed, which we did soon after ten, it was left in this room, lying there on the sofa." They were now sitting in the little back parlour, in which Mrs. and Miss Meager were accustomed to live. "And it was there in the morning?" "Father had it on when he went out," said Amelia. "If we paid him he would get it out of the pawnshop, and bring it to us, would he not?" asked the lady. To this Mrs. Meager suggested that it was quite on the cards that Mr. Meager might have been able to do better with his coat by selling it, and if so, it certainly would have been sold, as no prudent idea of redeeming his garment for the next winter's wear would ever enter his mind. And Mrs. Meager seemed to think that such a sale would not have taken place between her husband and any old friend. "He wouldn't know where he sold it," said Mrs. Meager. "Anyways he'd tell us so," said Amelia. "But if we paid him to be more accurate?" said Madame Goesler. "They is so afraid of being took up themselves," said Mrs. Meager. There was, however, ample evidence that Mr. Meager had possessed a grey great coat, which during the night of the murder had been left in the little sitting-room, and which they had supposed to have lain there all night. To this coat Mr. Emilius might have had easy access. "But then it was a big man that was seen, and Emilius isn't no ways a big man. Meager's coat would be too long for him, ever so much." "Nevertheless we must try and get the coat," said Madame Goesler. "I'll speak to a friend about it. I suppose we can find your husband when we want him?" "I don't know, Ma'am. We never can find him; but then we never do want him,—not now. The police know him at the races, no doubt. You won't go and get him into trouble, Ma'am, worse than he is? He's always been in trouble, but I wouldn't like to be means of making it worse on him than it is." Madame Goesler, as she again paid the woman for her services, assured her that she would do no injury to Mr. Meager. All that she wanted of Mr. Meager was his grey coat, and that not with any view that could be detrimental either to his honour or to his safety, and she was willing to pay any reasonable price,—or almost any unreasonable price,—for the coat. But the coat must be made to be forthcoming if it were still in existence, and had not been as yet torn to pieces by the shoddy makers. "It ain't near come to that yet," said Amelia. "I don't know that I ever see father more respectable,—that is, in the way of a great coat." About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2006). Phineas Redux. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18640/pg18640-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

THE MEAGER FAMILY.

A LITTLE JOURNEY INTO THE WORLD

Directed Acyclic Graphs (DAGs) have emerged as a promising alternative to blockchain technology. Unlike blockchains, DAGs boast a unique structure where transactions are linked in a directed, non-circular manner, with new ways to reach consensus. This innovation promises faster transaction speeds and higher decentralization, making them an attractive choice for crypto enthusiasts. However, they could come with their own set of security challenges. There are bug bounty programs for a reason, after all. Cybercriminals will target the most vulnerable points, and that’s usually outside the DAG itself, but targeting its users anyway. However, so far, we can say that no DAG structure has been hacked. On the other hand, their related services, from social media and even smart contracts, are another story. We’ll delve ahead into some attacks involving DAG platforms, recounting five instances when their related services fell victim to hacking attempts. Besides, we’ll explore strategies and best practices to shield oneself from such threats. Whether you're a seasoned investor or a newcomer, understanding is essential to protect your digital assets in an increasingly complex crypto ecosystem. these challenges Nano + BitGrail In 2018, the cryptocurrency world witnessed a major security breach involving the Italian cryptocurrency exchange BitGrail and the digital currency Nano (formerly known as Raiblocks). This currency uses a ledger structured like a DAG (more accurately, block lattice), and its consensus system is quite similar to a Proof-of-Stake (PoS) blockchain. began when BitGrail reported a substantial amount of Nano tokens missing from its platform. The exchange's founder, Francesco Firano, claimed that the hack had resulted The incident in the theft of approximately 17 million Nano tokens, equivalent to roughly $170 million at the time. The aftermath of the BitGrail hack was marked by a contentious dispute between the exchange's management and the Nano development team. Firano initially suggested that Nano's code was responsible for the vulnerability, blaming the developers for the theft. He demanded a contentious fork (update) to be held by the Nano team (to erase the hack), which they refused. Indeed, the hack happened just in time to see a price rise in Nano, and Firano hid that the breaches had been happening since 2017. BitGrail and Firano received at least , and ultimately, Firano was found to be directly liable for the attack. More investigations later revealed that BitGrail's security measures and internal controls were inadequate, leading to the compromise of user funds. two class-action lawsuits In this case, the DAG wasn’t attacked, but the users trusted the wrong company. In centralized exchanges, you don’t have private keys to your funds. Instead, only an account with a password is provided, and the funds are in full custody (control) by that company. If they lose (hacks, bankruptcy, etc.), then you lose too. That’s why it’s important not to use exchanges as permanent wallets. IOTA + Moonpay IOTA is a cryptocurrency platform that utilizes Directed Acyclic Graph (DAG) technology to enable faster transactions, and it’s focused on the Internet of Things (IoT) sector. Unlike blockchains, IOTA's Tangle DAG allows users to validate transactions by confirming others, but there’s an ultimate coordinator node to achieve consensus. They intend (since 2016) to get rid of it, but in the meantime, the coordinator is controlled by the IOTA Foundation, and the network is centralized. That was vastly proved in February 2020, when the whole network was frozen by the coordinator after a major breach. The IOTA suffered a security breach due to a third-party dependency from Moonpay (a crypto payment service), which compromised users' wallet seeds by loading illicit versions of Moonpay's SDK from Moonpay's servers. Back then, hackers stole 8.5 million in IOTA's native token MIOTA directly from users —approximately $2 million at the time. Trinity wallet The cyber-criminal awaited a new Trinity version to overwrite cached files and eliminate traces. Immediate actions were taken by the IOTA Foundation, including halting the coordinator and creating an incident management plan with public status updates. The attack involved DNS interception, code modification, and API key misuse. IOTA responded by developing migration tools for affected users, enhancing analytical tools, and collaborating with security experts and law enforcement. Trinity isn’t used anymore, and MoonPay with them to fix the issue. So, again, it wasn’t a breached DAG but an external service related to it. collaborated Hedera Hashgraph Hedera Hashgraph is a distributed ledger system that utilizes Directed Acyclic Graphs (DAGs) for consensus. In Hedera's , nodes share new information with each other, gradually reaching a consensus through multiple rounds of sharing. This history of information-sharing events is represented as a hashgraph —a type of DAG. gossip protocol This system is patented, but it’s not error-free. On March 9, 2023, the Hedera Hashgraph network to a smart contract exploit, resulting in the theft of various tokens from decentralized exchanges (DEXs) such as Pangolin, SaucerSwap, and HeliSwap. Retail user accounts and Hedera wallets remained unaffected, but fell victim the attacker managed to steal tokens valued at nearly $600,000. They included DAI Stablecoin, Tether USD, USD Coin, and Wrapped HBAR. Swift action was taken to mitigate the attack. DEXs and bridges collaborated to halt the token flow over the bridge within an hour of being alerted to the breach. The Hedera team disabled proxy access to the Hedera mainnet (thanks to the network being centralized, like IOTA), preventing further access by users and the attacker. A fix was swiftly developed, tested, and implemented within 41 hours of discovering the vulnerability. Unlike previous attacks in other DAGs, this time, the native system was actually the one compromised, specifically, its smart contract layer. The team acted quickly to mitigate it. Sui Network + Discord Sui Network is a distributed ledger launched in May 2023. It splits transactions into simple ones (like sending money) and complex ones (like online auctions). Simple transactions don’t require consensus, but use Proof-of-Stake (PoS) validators and a high-throughput DAG-based consensus protocol called Bullshark. complex transactions This network has proved that prevention is important, especially when it comes to new technologies. Just before their mainnet release, the security firm CertiK found a critical bug in the system. The flaw was an infinite loop bug within Sui's code that could be triggered by a malicious smart contract. This type of attack, known as the "HamsterWheel attack," doesn't crash nodes but instead keeps them endlessly running without processing new transactions, rendering the network inoperable. Once the bug , Sui developers swiftly implemented fixes to mitigate its impact, and CertiK confirmed that these fixes were already deployed. The Sui Foundation awarded $500,000 to CertiK as a bug bounty. However, it wasn’t the only threat faced by this platform. was identified Even before the potential bug, in August 2022, The announcement was shared , where several users complained about having lost funds due to the event. The incident involved hackers sharing a link to an alleged airdrop on the server's announcement channel. Since then, they reinforced their security and verification processes in the chat. Mysten Labs’ (Sui creators) Discord server was hacked. on Twitter Avalanche + DeFi Avalanche is another crypto protocol that uses DAG structures instead of blockchains. It comprises : the Contract Chain (C-Chain) for smart contracts, the Exchange Chain (X-Chain) for fast fund transfers with low fees, and the Platform Chain (P-Chain) for staking and rewards. The X-Chain, in particular, leverages DAG technology to achieve high throughput and rapid transaction finality. different chains Several DeFi protocols based on Avalanche have faced important attacks over the years. The first high-profile hack was against the lending platform in September 2021. The attack happened because they relied on a single source for their price information (oracle), and this source didn't handle decimal points properly. This allowed the attacker to manipulate prices and execute trades on pairs that weren't supposed to be traded. Vee Finance The tokens were subsequently bridged to Ethereum and remain in the attacker's possession. Vee Finance suspended platform contracts and related functions (which demonstrated that the platform wasn’t as decentralized as the term DeFi implies), actively pursuing asset recovery efforts. However, this wasn’t all for Avalanche. More attacks would come in time. That resulted in the unauthorized withdrawal of 8804.7 ETH and 213.93 BTC (around $36 million at the time). Last February 2023, two more DeFi protocols were hacked again: the multi-chain aggregator Dexible and the DEX Platypus. , the attacker leveraged the app's selfSwap function to move over $2 million worth of crypto from users who had authorized the app to access their tokens. Dexible paused its contracts and advised users to revoke token authorizations. In the first case The hacker exploited the protocol's asset contracts using a malicious smart contract with unverified source code. Now, about the three cases, we can say that some bugs escaped from DeFi developers since the beginning, resulting in the loss of funds. In the second case, Platypus $8.5 million in a flash loan attack. lost over Protect yourself from DAG risks For average users of Directed Acyclic Graph (DAG) platforms, several key security measures and protections can be applied to mitigate risks: Before using any third-party services, such as wallets or exchanges, do your research to ensure they have a good reputation for security. Also, avoid leaving large amounts of crypto on exchanges for extended periods. Use Reputable Services: If you have wallets that give you control over your private keys, use them. This means you have direct control over your funds. Cold wallets offer an extra layer of security. Secure Your Private Keys: When dealing with any cryptocurrency-related accounts, use strong, unique passwords. Consider using a reputable password manager to keep them safe. Whenever possible, enable Two-Factor Authentication (2FA) on your accounts. Use Strong Passwords and enable 2FA: Keep up to date with the latest news and developments regarding the DAG platform you're using. Understanding potential vulnerabilities can help you take preventive action. Stay Informed: Be cautious of phishing emails, messages, or websites that aim to steal your login information or private keys. Always double-check URLs and sources. Beware of Phishing Scams: For applications or services that request permission to access your wallet or tokens, review and revoke these permissions when they're no longer needed. Regularly Review Permissions: Avoid putting all your assets into a single cryptocurrency or platform. Diversification can help spread risk. Diversify Your Investments: So far, Obyte (also a crypto-DAG platform) hasn’t suffered a high-profile hack on its system or related services. That doesn’t mean they are immune to attacks, though. is active on Immunefi, with high rewards for skilled developers. However, it’s always important to apply the on your own wallet and do your own research for each platform! A bug bounty program best security measures Featured Vector Image by Freepik

5 Security Incidents Involving DAG Networks—and How to Protect Yourself

DAG নেটওয়ার্কের সাথে জড়িত 5 নিরাপত্তা ঘটনা—এবং কীভাবে নিজেকে রক্ষা করবেন

5 Sicherheitsvorfälle im Zusammenhang mit DAG-Netzwerken – und wie Sie sich schützen können

Cinco incidentes de seguridad que involucran redes DAG y cómo protegerse

5 incidents de sécurité impliquant les réseaux DAG et comment vous protéger

डीएजी नेटवर्क से जुड़ी 5 सुरक्षा घटनाएं—और अपनी सुरक्षा कैसे करें

DAG ネットワークに関連する 5 つのセキュリティ インシデントと身を守る方法

DAG 네트워크와 관련된 5가지 보안 사고 및 자신을 보호하는 방법

5 incidentes de segurança envolvendo redes DAG – e como se proteger

5 инцидентов безопасности, связанных с сетями DAG, и как защитить себя

DAG Ağlarını İçeren 5 Güvenlik Olayı ve Kendinizi Nasıl Korursunuz

5 sự cố bảo mật liên quan đến mạng DAG—và cách tự bảo vệ mình

涉及 DAG 网络的 5 个安全事件以及如何保护自己

The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . MISS LONGESTAFFE'S LOVER here MISS LONGESTAFFE'S LOVER. A few days before that period in our story which we have now reached, Miss Longestaffe was seated in Lady Monogram's back drawing-room, discussing the terms on which the two tickets for Madame Melmotte's grand reception had been transferred to Lady Monogram,—the place on the cards for the names of the friends whom Madame Melmotte had the honour of inviting to meet the Emperor and the Princes, having been left blank; and the terms also on which Miss Longestaffe had been asked to spend two or three days with her dear friend Lady Monogram. Each lady was disposed to get as much and to give as little as possible,—in which desire the ladies carried out the ordinary practice of all parties to a bargain. It had of course been settled that Lady Monogram was to have the two tickets,—for herself and her husband,—such tickets at that moment standing very high in the market. In payment for these valuable considerations, Lady Monogram was to undertake to chaperon Miss Longestaffe at the entertainment, to take Miss Longestaffe as a visitor for three days, and to have one party at her own house during the time, so that it might be seen that Miss Longestaffe had other friends in London besides the Melmotte's on whom to depend for her London gaieties. At this moment Miss Longestaffe felt herself justified in treating the matter as though she were hardly receiving a fair equivalent. The Melmotte tickets were certainly ruling very high. They had just culminated. They fell a little soon afterwards, and at ten p.m. on the night of the entertainment were hardly worth anything. At the moment which we have now in hand, there was a rush for them. Lady Monogram had already secured the tickets. They were in her desk. But, as will sometimes be the case in a bargain, the seller was complaining that as she had parted with her goods too cheap, some make-weight should be added to the stipulated price. "As for that, my dear," said Miss Longestaffe, who, since the rise in Melmotte stock generally, had endeavoured to resume something of her old manners, "I don't see what you mean at all. You meet Lady Julia Goldsheiner everywhere, and her father-in-law is Mr. Brehgert's junior partner." "Lady Julia is Lady Julia, my dear, and young Mr. Goldsheiner has, in some sort of way, got himself in. He hunts, and Damask says that he is one of the best shots at Hurlingham. I never met old Mr. Goldsheiner anywhere." "I have." "Oh, yes, I dare say. Mr. Melmotte, of course, entertains all the City people. I don't think Sir Damask would like me to ask Mr. Brehgert to dine here." Lady Monogram managed everything herself with reference to her own parties; invited all her own guests, and never troubled Sir Damask,—who, again, on his side, had his own set of friends; but she was very clever in the use which she made of her husband. There were some aspirants who really were taught to think that Sir Damask was very particular as to the guests whom he welcomed to his own house. "May I speak to Sir Damask about it?" asked Miss Longestaffe, who was very urgent on the occasion. "Well, my dear, I really don't think you ought to do that. There are little things which a man and his wife must manage together without interference." "Nobody can ever say that I interfered in any family. But really, Julia, when you tell me that Sir Damask cannot receive Mr. Brehgert, it does sound odd. As for City people, you know as well as I do, that that kind of thing is all over now. City people are just as good as West-end people." "A great deal better, I dare say. I'm not arguing about that. I don't make the lines; but there they are; and one gets to know in a sort of way what they are. I don't pretend to be a bit better than my neighbours. I like to see people come here whom other people who come here will like to meet. I'm big enough to hold my own, and so is Sir Damask. But we ain't big enough to introduce new-comers. I don't suppose there's anybody in London understands it better than you do, Georgiana, and therefore it's absurd my pretending to teach you. I go pretty well everywhere, as you are aware; and I shouldn't know Mr. Brehgert if I were to see him." "You'll meet him at the Melmottes', and, in spite of all you said once, you're glad enough to go there." "Quite true, my dear. I don't think that you are just the person to throw that in my teeth; but never mind that. There's the butcher round the corner in Bond Street, or the man who comes to do my hair. I don't at all think of asking them to my house. But if they were suddenly to turn out wonderful men, and go everywhere, no doubt I should be glad to have them here. That's the way we live, and you are as well used to it as I am. Mr. Brehgert at present to me is like the butcher round the corner." Lady Monogram had the tickets safe under lock and key, or I think she would hardly have said this. "He is not a bit like a butcher," said Miss Longestaffe, blazing up in real wrath. "I did not say that he was." "Yes, you did; and it was the unkindest thing you could possibly say. It was meant to be unkind. It was monstrous. How would you like it if I said that Sir Damask was like a hair-dresser?" "You can say so if you please. Sir Damask drives four in hand, rides as though he meant to break his neck every winter, is one of the best shots going, and is supposed to understand a yacht as well as any other gentleman out. And I'm rather afraid that before he was married he used to box with all the prize-fighters, and to be a little too free behind the scenes. If that makes a man like a hair-dresser, well, there he is." "How proud you are of his vices." "He's very good-natured, my dear, and as he does not interfere with me, I don't interfere with him. I hope you'll do as well. I dare say Mr. Brehgert is good-natured." "He's an excellent man of business, and is making a very large fortune." "And has five or six grown-up children, who, no doubt, will be a comfort." "If I don't mind them, why need you? You have none at all, and you find it lonely enough." "Not at all lonely. I have everything that I desire. How hard you are trying to be ill-natured, Georgiana." "Why did you say that he was a—butcher?" "I said nothing of the kind. I didn't even say that he was like a butcher. What I did say was this,—that I don't feel inclined to risk my own reputation on the appearance of new people at my table. Of course, I go in for what you call fashion. Some people can dare to ask anybody they meet in the streets. I can't. I've my own line, and I mean to follow it. It's hard work, I can tell you; and it would be harder still if I wasn't particular. If you like Mr. Brehgert to come here on Tuesday evening, when the rooms will be full, you can ask him; but as for having him to dinner, I—won't—do—it." So the matter was at last settled. Miss Longestaffe did ask Mr. Brehgert for the Tuesday evening, and the two ladies were again friends. Perhaps Lady Monogram, when she illustrated her position by an allusion to a butcher and a hair-dresser, had been unaware that Mr. Brehgert had some resemblance to the form which men in that trade are supposed to bear. Let us at least hope that she was so. He was a fat, greasy man, good-looking in a certain degree, about fifty, with hair dyed black, and beard and moustache dyed a dark purple colour. The charm of his face consisted in a pair of very bright black eyes, which were, however, set too near together in his face for the general delight of Christians. He was stout;—fat all over rather than corpulent,—and had that look of command in his face which has become common to master-butchers, probably by long intercourse with sheep and oxen. But Mr. Brehgert was considered to be a very good man of business, and was now regarded as being, in a commercial point of view, the leading member of the great financial firm of which he was the second partner. Mr. Todd's day was nearly done. He walked about constantly between Lombard Street, the Exchange, and the Bank, and talked much to merchants; he had an opinion too of his own on particular cases; but the business had almost got beyond him, and Mr. Brehgert was now supposed to be the moving spirit of the firm. He was a widower, living in a luxurious villa at Fulham with a family, not indeed grown up, as Lady Monogram had ill-naturedly said, but which would be grown up before long, varying from an eldest son of eighteen, who had just been placed at a desk in the office, to the youngest girl of twelve, who was at school at Brighton. He was a man who always asked for what he wanted; and having made up his mind that he wanted a second wife, had asked Miss Georgiana Longestaffe to fill that situation. He had met her at the Melmottes', had entertained her, with Madame Melmotte and Marie, at Beaudesert, as he called his villa, had then proposed in the square, and two days after had received an assenting answer in Bruton Street. Poor Miss Longestaffe! Although she had acknowledged the fact to Lady Monogram in her desire to pave the way for the reception of herself into society as a married woman, she had not as yet found courage to tell her family. The man was absolutely a Jew;—not a Jew that had been, as to whom there might possibly be a doubt whether he or his father or his grandfather had been the last Jew of the family; but a Jew that was. So was Goldsheiner a Jew, whom Lady Julia Start had married,—or at any rate had been one a very short time before he ran away with that lady. She counted up ever so many instances on her fingers of "decent people" who had married Jews or Jewesses. Lord Frederic Framlinghame had married a girl of the Berrenhoffers; and Mr. Hart had married a Miss Chute. She did not know much of Miss Chute, but was certain that she was a Christian. Lord Frederic's wife and Lady Julia Goldsheiner were seen everywhere. Though she hardly knew how to explain the matter even to herself, she was sure that there was at present a general heaving-up of society on this matter, and a change in progress which would soon make it a matter of indifference whether anybody was Jew or Christian. For herself she regarded the matter not at all, except as far as it might be regarded by the world in which she wished to live. She was herself above all personal prejudices of that kind. Jew, Turk, or infidel was nothing to her. She had seen enough of the world to be aware that her happiness did not lie in that direction, and could not depend in the least on the religion of her husband. Of course she would go to church herself. She always went to church. It was the proper thing to do. As to her husband, though she did not suppose that she could ever get him to church,—nor perhaps would it be desirable,—she thought that she might induce him to go nowhere, so that she might be able to pass him off as a Christian. She knew that such was the Christianity of young Goldsheiner, of which the Starts were now boasting. Had she been alone in the world she thought that she could have looked forward to her destiny with complacency; but she was afraid of her father and mother. Lady Pomona was distressingly old-fashioned, and had so often spoken with horror even of the approach of a Jew,—and had been so loud in denouncing the iniquity of Christians who allowed such people into their houses! Unfortunately, too, Georgiana in her earlier days had re-echoed all her mother's sentiments. And then her father,—if he had ever earned for himself the right to be called a Conservative politician by holding a real opinion of his own,—it had been on that matter of admitting the Jews into parliament. When that had been done he was certain that the glory of England was sunk for ever. And since that time, whenever creditors were more than ordinarily importunate, when Slow and Bideawhile could do nothing for him, he would refer to that fatal measure as though it was the cause of every embarrassment which had harassed him. How could she tell parents such as these that she was engaged to marry a man who at the present moment went to synagogue on a Saturday and carried out every other filthy abomination common to the despised people? That Mr. Brehgert was a fat, greasy man of fifty, conspicuous for hair-dye, was in itself distressing:—but this minor distress was swallowed up in the greater. Miss Longestaffe was a girl possessing considerable discrimination, and was able to weigh her own possessions in just scales. She had begun life with very high aspirations, believing in her own beauty, in her mother's fashion, and her father's fortune. She had now been ten years at the work, and was aware that she had always flown a little too high for her mark at the time. At nineteen and twenty and twenty-one she had thought that all the world was before her. With her commanding figure, regular long features, and bright complexion, she had regarded herself as one of the beauties of the day, and had considered herself entitled to demand wealth and a coronet. At twenty-two, twenty-three, and twenty-four any young peer, or peer's eldest son, with a house in town and in the country, might have sufficed. Twenty-five and six had been the years for baronets and squires; and even a leading fashionable lawyer or two had been marked by her as sufficient since that time. But now she was aware that hitherto she had always fixed her price a little too high. On three things she was still determined,—that she would not be poor, that she would not be banished from London, and that she would not be an old maid. "Mamma," she had often said, "there's one thing certain. I shall never do to be poor." Lady Pomona had expressed full concurrence with her child. "And, mamma, to do as Sophia is doing would kill me. Fancy having to live at Toodlam all one's life with George Whitstable!" Lady Pomona had agreed to this also, though she thought that Toodlam Hall was a very nice home for her elder daughter. "And, mamma, I should drive you and papa mad if I were to stay at home always. And what would become of me when Dolly was master of everything?" Lady Pomona, looking forward as well as she was able to the time at which she should herself have departed, when her dower and dower-house would have reverted to Dolly, acknowledged that Georgiana should provide herself with a home of her own before that time. And how was this to be done? Lovers with all the glories and all the graces are supposed to be plentiful as blackberries by girls of nineteen, but have been proved to be rare hothouse fruits by girls of twenty-nine. Brehgert was rich, would live in London, and would be a husband. People did such odd things now and "lived them down," that she could see no reason why she should not do this and live this down. Courage was the one thing necessary,—that and perseverance. She must teach herself to talk about Brehgert as Lady Monogram did of Sir Damask. She had plucked up so much courage as had enabled her to declare her fate to her old friend,—remembering as she did so how in days long past she and her friend Julia Triplex had scattered their scorn upon some poor girl who had married a man with a Jewish name,—whose grandfather had possibly been a Jew. "Dear me," said Lady Monogram. "Todd, Brehgert, and Goldsheiner! Mr. Todd is—one of us, I suppose." "Yes," said Georgiana boldly, "and Mr. Brehgert is a Jew. His name is Ezekiel Brehgert, and he is a Jew. You can say what you like about it." "I don't say anything about it, my dear." "And you can think anything you like. Things are changed since you and I were younger." "Very much changed, it appears," said Lady Monogram. Sir Damask's religion had never been doubted, though except on the occasion of his marriage no acquaintance of his had probably ever seen him in church. But to tell her father and mother required a higher spirit than she had shown even in her communication to Lady Monogram, and that spirit had not as yet come to her. On the morning before she left the Melmottes in Bruton Street, her lover had been with her. The Melmottes of course knew of the engagement and quite approved of it. Madame Melmotte rather aspired to credit for having had so happy an affair arranged under her auspices. It was some set-off against Marie's unfortunate escapade. Mr. Brehgert, therefore, had been allowed to come and go as he pleased, and on that morning he had pleased to come. They were sitting alone in some back room, and Brehgert was pressing for an early day. "I don't think we need talk of that yet, Mr. Brehgert," she said. "You might as well get over the difficulty and call me Ezekiel at once," he remarked. Georgiana frowned, and made no soft little attempt at the name as ladies in such circumstances are wont to do. "Mrs. Brehgert"—he alluded of course to the mother of his children—"used to call me Ezzy." "Perhaps I shall do so some day," said Miss Longestaffe, looking at her lover, and asking herself why she should not have been able to have the house and the money and the name of the wife without the troubles appertaining. She did not think it possible that she should ever call him Ezzy. "And ven shall it be? I should say as early in August as possible." "In August!" she almost screamed. It was already July. "Vy not, my dear? Ve would have our little holiday in Germany,—at Vienna. I have business there, and know many friends." Then he pressed her hard to fix some day in the next month. It would be expedient that they should be married from the Melmottes' house, and the Melmottes would leave town some time in August. There was truth in this. Unless married from the Melmottes' house, she must go down to Caversham for the occasion,—which would be intolerable. No;—she must separate herself altogether from father and mother, and become one with the Melmottes and the Brehgerts,—till she could live it down and make a position for herself. If the spending of money could do it, it should be done. "I must at any rate ask mamma about it," said Georgiana. Mr. Brehgert, with the customary good-humour of his people, was satisfied with the answer, and went away promising that he would meet his love at the great Melmotte reception. Then she sat silent, thinking how she should declare the matter to her family. Would it not be better for her to say to them at once that there must be a division among them,—an absolute breaking off of all old ties, so that it should be tacitly acknowledged that she, Georgiana, had gone out from among the Longestaffes altogether, and had become one with the Melmottes, Brehgerts, and Goldsheiners? About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2004). The Way We Live Now. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5231/pg5231-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

MISS LONGESTAFFE'S LOVER

Phineas Redux by Anthony Trollope, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . THE SPOONER CORRESPONDENCE. here THE SPOONER CORRESPONDENCE. It will be remembered that Adelaide Palliser had accepted the hand of Mr. Maule, junior, and that she and Lady Chiltern between them had despatched him up to London on an embassy to his father, in which he failed very signally. It had been originally Lady Chiltern's idea that the proper home for the young couple would be the ancestral hall, which must be theirs some day, and in which, with exceeding prudence, they might be able to live as Maules of Maule Abbey upon the very limited income which would belong to them. How slight were the grounds for imputing such stern prudence to Gerard Maule both the ladies felt;—but it had become essential to do something; the young people were engaged to each other, and a manner of life must be suggested, discussed, and as far as possible arranged. Lady Chiltern was useful at such work, having a practical turn of mind, and understanding well the condition of life for which it was necessary that her friend should prepare herself. The lover was not vicious, he neither drank nor gambled, nor ran himself hopelessly in debt. He was good-humoured and tractable, and docile enough when nothing disagreeable was asked from him. He would have, he said, no objection to live at Maule Abbey if Adelaide liked it. He didn't believe much in farming, but would consent at Adelaide's request to be the owner of bullocks. He was quite ready to give up hunting, having already taught himself to think that the very few good runs in a season were hardly worth the trouble of getting up before daylight all the winter. He went forth, therefore, on his embassy, and we know how he failed. Another lover would have communicated the disastrous tidings at once to the lady; but Gerard Maule waited a week before he did so, and then told his story in half-a-dozen words. "The governor cut up rough about Maule Abbey, and will not hear of it. He generally does cut up rough." "But he must be made to hear of it," said Lady Chiltern. Two days afterwards the news reached Harrington of the death of the Duke of Omnium. A letter of an official nature reached Adelaide from Mr. Fothergill, in which the writer explained that he had been desired by Mr. Palliser to communicate to her and the relatives the sad tidings. "So the poor old man has gone at last," said Lady Chiltern, with that affectation of funereal gravity which is common to all of us. "Poor old Duke!" said Adelaide. "I have been hearing of him as a sort of bugbear all my life. I don't think I ever saw him but once, and then he gave me a kiss and a pair of earrings. He never paid any attention to us at all, but we were taught to think that Providence had been very good to us in making the Duke our uncle." "He was very rich?" "Horribly rich, I have always heard." "Won't he leave you something? It would be very nice now that you are engaged to find that he has given you five thousand pounds." "Very nice indeed;—but there is not a chance of it. It has always been known that everything is to go to the heir. Papa had his fortune and spent it. He and his brother were never friends, and though the Duke did once give me a kiss I imagine that he forgot my existence immediately afterwards." "So the Duke of Omnium is dead," said Lord Chiltern when he came home that evening. "Adelaide has had a letter to tell her so this afternoon." "Mr. Fothergill wrote to me," said Adelaide;—"the man who is so wicked about the foxes." "I don't care a straw about Mr. Fothergill; and now my mouth is closed against your uncle. But it's quite frightful to think that a Duke of Omnium must die like anybody else." "The Duke is dead;—long live the Duke," said Lady Chiltern. "I wonder how Mr. Palliser will like it." "Men always do like it, I suppose," said Adelaide. "Women do," said Lord Chiltern. "Lady Glencora will be delighted to reign,—though I can hardly fancy her by any other name. By the bye, Adelaide, I have got a letter for you." "A letter for me, Lord Chiltern!" "Well,—yes; I suppose I had better give it you. It is not addressed to you, but you must answer it." "What on earth is it?" "I think I can guess," said Lady Chiltern, laughing. She had guessed rightly, but Adelaide Palliser was still altogether in the dark when Lord Chiltern took a letter from his pocket and handed it to her. As he did so he left the room, and his wife followed him. "I shall be upstairs, Adelaide, if you want advice," said Lady Chiltern. The letter was from Mr. Spooner. He had left Harrington Hall after the uncourteous reception which had been accorded to him by Miss Palliser in deep disgust, resolving that he would never again speak to her, and almost resolving that Spoon Hall should never have a mistress in his time. But with his wine after dinner his courage came back to him, and he began to reflect once more that it is not the habit of young ladies to accept their lovers at the first offer. There was living with Mr. Spooner at this time a very attached friend, whom he usually consulted in all emergencies, and to whom on this occasion he opened his heart. Mr. Edward Spooner, commonly called Ned by all who knew him, and not unfrequently so addressed by those who did not, was a distant cousin of the Squire's, who unfortunately had no particular income of his own. For the last ten years he had lived at Spoon Hall, and had certainly earned his bread. The Squire had achieved a certain credit for success as a country gentleman. Nothing about his place was out of order. His own farming, which was extensive, succeeded. His bullocks and sheep won prizes. His horses were always useful and healthy. His tenants were solvent, if not satisfied, and he himself did not owe a shilling. Now many people in the neighbourhood attributed all this to the judicious care of Mr. Edward Spooner, whose eye was never off the place, and whose discretion was equal to his zeal. In giving the Squire his due, one must acknowledge that he recognised the merits of his cousin, and trusted him in everything. That night, as soon as the customary bottle of claret had succeeded the absolutely normal bottle of port after dinner, Mr. Spooner of Spoon Hall opened his heart to his cousin. "I shall have to walk, then," said Ned. "Not if I know it," said the Squire. "You don't suppose I'm going to let any woman have the command of Spoon Hall?" "They do command,—inside, you know." "No woman shall ever turn you out of this house, Ned." "I'm not thinking of myself, Tom," said the cousin. "Of course you'll marry some day, and of course I must take my chance. I don't see why it shouldn't be Miss Palliser as well as another." "The jade almost made me angry." "I suppose that's the way with most of 'em. 'Ludit exultim metuitque tangi'." For Ned Spooner had himself preserved some few tattered shreds of learning from his school days. "You don't remember about the filly?" "Yes I do; very well," said the Squire. "'Nuptiarum expers.' That's what it is, I suppose. Try it again." The advice on the part of the cousin was genuine and unselfish. That Mr. Spooner of Spoon Hall should be rejected by a young lady without any fortune seemed to him to be impossible. At any rate it is the duty of a man in such circumstances to persevere. As far as Ned knew the world, ladies always required to be asked a second or a third time. And then no harm can come from such perseverance. "She can't break your bones, Tom." There was much honesty displayed on this occasion. The Squire, when he was thus instigated to persevere, did his best to describe the manner in which he had been rejected. His powers of description were not very great, but he did not conceal anything wilfully. "She was as hard as nails, you know." "I don't know that that means much. Horace's filly kicked a few, no doubt." "She told me that if I'd go one way, she'd go the other!" "They always say about the hardest things that come to their tongues. They don't curse and swear as we do, or there'd be no bearing them. If you really like her—" "She's such a well-built creature! There's a look of blood about her I don't see in any of 'em. That sort of breeding is what one wants to get through the mud with." Then it was that the cousin recommended a letter to Lord Chiltern. Lord Chiltern was at the present moment to be regarded as the lady's guardian, and was the lover's intimate friend. A direct proposal had already been made to the young lady, and this should now be repeated to the gentleman who for the time stood in the position of her father. The Squire for a while hesitated, declaring that he was averse to make his secret known to Lord Chiltern. "One doesn't want every fellow in the country to know it," he said. But in answer to this the cousin was very explicit. There could be but little doubt that Lord Chiltern knew the secret already; and he would certainly be rather induced to keep it as a secret than to divulge it if it were communicated to him officially. And what other step could the Squire take? It would not be likely that he should be asked again to Harrington Hall with the express view of repeating his offer. The cousin was quite of opinion that a written proposition should be made; and on that very night the cousin himself wrote out a letter for the Squire to copy in the morning. On the morning the Squire copied the letter,—not without additions of his own, as to which he had very many words with his discreet cousin,—and in a formal manner handed it to Lord Chiltern towards the afternoon of that day, having devoted his whole morning to the finding of a proper opportunity for doing so. Lord Chiltern had read the letter, and had, as we see, delivered it to Adelaide Palliser. "That's another proposal from Mr. Spooner," Lady Chiltern said, as soon as they were alone. "Exactly that." "I knew he'd go on with it. Men are such fools." "I don't see that he's a fool at all;" said Lord Chiltern, almost in anger. "Why shouldn't he ask a girl to be his wife? He's a rich man, and she hasn't got a farthing." "You might say the same of a butcher, Oswald." "Mr. Spooner is a gentleman." "You do not mean to say that he's fit to marry such a girl as Adelaide Palliser?" "I don't know what makes fitness. He's got a red nose, and if she don't like a red nose,—that's unfitness. Gerard Maule's nose isn't red, and I dare say therefore he's fitter. Only, unfortunately, he has no money." "Adelaide Palliser would no more think of marrying Mr. Spooner than you would have thought of marrying the cook." "If I had liked the cook I should have asked her, and I don't see why Mr. Spooner shouldn't ask Miss Palliser. She needn't take him." In the meantime Miss Palliser was reading the following letter:— Spoon Hall, 11th March, 18–ndash;. My dear Lord Chiltern,— I venture to suppose that at present you are acting as the guardian of Miss Palliser, who has been staying at your house all the winter. If I am wrong in this I hope you will pardon me, and consent to act in that capacity for this occasion. I entertain feelings of the greatest admiration and warmest affection for the young lady I have named, which I ventured to express when I had the pleasure of staying at Harrington Hall in the early part of last month. I cannot boast that I was received on that occasion with much favour; but I know that I am not very good at talking, and we are told in all the books that no man has a right to expect to be taken at the first time of asking. Perhaps Miss Palliser will allow me, through you, to request her to consider my proposal with more deliberation than was allowed to me before, when I spoke to her perhaps with injudicious hurry. So far the Squire adopted his cousin's words without alteration. I am the owner of my own property,—which is more than everybody can say. My income is nearly £4,000 a year. I shall be willing to make any proper settlement that may be recommended by the lawyers,—though I am strongly of opinion that an estate shouldn't be crippled for the sake of the widow. As to refurnishing the old house, and all that, I'll do anything that Miss Palliser may please. She knows my taste about hunting, and I know hers, so that there need not be any difference of opinion on that score. Miss Palliser can't suspect me of any interested motives. I come forward because I think she is the most charming girl I ever saw, and because I love her with all my heart. I haven't got very much to say for myself, but if she'll consent to be the mistress of Spoon Hall, she shall have all that the heart of a woman can desire. Pray believe me, My dear Lord Chiltern, Yours very sincerely, Thomas Platter Spooner. As I believe that Miss Palliser is fond of books, it may be well to tell her that there is an uncommon good library at Spoon Hall. I shall have no objection to go abroad for the honeymoon for three or four months in the summer. The postscript was the Squire's own, and was inserted in opposition to the cousin's judgment. "She won't come for the sake of the books," said the cousin. But the Squire thought that the attractions should be piled up. "I wouldn't talk of the honeymoon till I'd got her to come round a little," said the cousin. The Squire thought that the cousin was falsely delicate, and pleaded that all girls like to be taken abroad when they're married. The second half of the body of the letter was very much disfigured by the Squire's petulance; so that the modesty with which he commenced was almost put to the blush by a touch of arrogance in the conclusion. That sentence in which the Squire declared that an estate ought not to be crippled for the sake of the widow was very much questioned by the cousin. "Such a word as 'widow' never ought to go into such a letter as this." But the Squire protested that he would not be mealy-mouthed. "She can bear to think of it, I'll go bail; and why shouldn't she hear about what she can think about?" "Don't talk about furniture yet, Tom," the cousin said; but the Squire was obstinate, and the cousin became hopeless. That word about loving her with all his heart was the cousin's own, but what followed, as to her being mistress of Spoon Hall, was altogether opposed to his judgment. "She'll be proud enough of Spoon Hall if she comes here," said the Squire. "I'd let her come first," said the cousin. We all know that the phraseology of the letter was of no importance whatever. When it was received the lady was engaged to another man; and she regarded Mr. Spooner of Spoon Hall as being guilty of unpardonable impudence in approaching her at all. "A red-faced vulgar old man, who looks as if he did nothing but drink," she said to Lady Chiltern. "He does you no harm, my dear." "But he does do harm. He makes things very uncomfortable. He has no business to think it possible. People will suppose that I gave him encouragement." "I used to have lovers coming to me year after year,—the same people,—whom I don't think I ever encouraged; but I never felt angry with them." "But you didn't have Mr. Spooner." "Mr. Spooner didn't know me in those days, or there is no saying what might have happened." Then Lady Chiltern argued the matter on views directly opposite to those which she had put forward when discussing the matter with her husband. "I always think that any man who is privileged to sit down to table with you is privileged to ask. There are disparities of course which may make the privilege questionable,—disparities of age, rank, and means." "And of tastes," said Adelaide. "I don't know about that.—A poet doesn't want to marry a poetess, nor a philosopher a philosopheress. A man may make himself a fool by putting himself in the way of certain refusal; but I take it the broad rule is that a man may fall in love with any lady who habitually sits in his company." "I don't agree with you at all. What would be said if the curate at Long Royston were to propose to one of the FitzHoward girls?" "The Duchess would probably ask the Duke to make the young man a bishop out of hand, and the Duke would have to spend a morning in explaining to her the changes which have come over the making of bishops since she was young. There is no other rule that you can lay down, and I think that girls should understand that they have to fight their battles subject to that law. It's very easy to say, 'No.'" "But a man won't take 'No.'" "And it's lucky for us sometimes that they don't," said Lady Chiltern, remembering certain passages in her early life. The answer was written that night by Lord Chiltern after much consultation. As to the nature of the answer,—that it should be a positive refusal,—of course there could be no doubt; but then arose a question whether a reason should be given, or whether the refusal should be simply a refusal. At last it was decided that a reason should be given, and the letter ran as follows:— My dear Mr. Spooner, I am commissioned to inform you that Miss Palliser is engaged to be married to Mr. Gerard Maule. Yours faithfully, Chiltern. The young lady had consented to be thus explicit because it had been already determined that no secret should be kept as to her future prospects. "He is one of those poverty-stricken wheedling fellows that one meets about the world every day," said the Squire to his cousin—"a fellow that rides horses that he can't pay for, and owes some poor devil of a tailor for the breeches that he sits in. They eat, and drink, and get along heaven only knows how. But they're sure to come to smash at last. Girls are such fools nowadays." "I don't think there has ever been much difference in that," said the cousin. "Because a man greases his whiskers, and colours his hair, and paints his eyebrows, and wears kid gloves, by George, they'll go through fire and water after him. He'll never marry her." "So much the better for her." "But I hate such d—— impudence. What right has a man to come forward in that way who hasn't got a house over his head, or the means of getting one? Old Maule is so hard up that he can barely get a dinner at his club in London. What I wonder at is that Lady Chiltern shouldn't know better." About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2006). Phineas Redux. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/18640/pg18640-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

THE SPOONER CORRESPONDENCE.

John Grey Goes a Second Time to London

Data breaches and information theft are rampant – indeed, with more information sitting online than ever before, criminals lurk in the shadows of the web. In 2020, over 33,000 individuals registered on the Pandemic Unemployment Assistance program had their identities exposed in a data security breach. If that sounds like a lot – you might be surprised to know that in 2018, Marriott International suffered a data breach that affected 500 million guests, which included leaked banking information. If you’re still not convinced, Yahoo suffered the largest data breach of all time, with three billion compromised accounts. A solution is needed to the crisis of individual data. Passports, driving licenses, addresses, and dates of birth – all documents that individuals should have true ownership of, without the involvement of a centralized authority. With the advent of blockchain technology and zero-knowledge proofs, we might finally be looking at a solution – today, we’ll be discussing , the challenges facing its mass adoption, and the potential remedies sitting on the horizon. Self-Sovereign Identity What is Self-Sovereign Identity? The term ‘Self-Sovereign Identity’, or SSI for short, tends to be used interchangeably with ‘decentralized identity’ and tackles the very problem we studied in the introduction – the security of personal information. SSIs aim to return ownership of identity to the individual. Imagine having a non-custodial crypto wallet, but instead of just holding different kinds of crypto currencies and NFTs at a stretch, you could hold your driving license, passport, and qualifications. Such a system would mean that each user fully owns and controls their own data with increased security and privacy, eliminating the central points of failure that we’re all too familiar with. As an added bonus, data can’t be tracked and correlated by corporate algorithms looking to compile and exploit user data. An SSI could be used to store academic qualifications in digital form, so that they can be used prior to a job interview to demonstrate authenticity without the disclosure of unnecessary information to the employer, such as one’s date of birth, for example. This is also where Zero-Knowledge Proofs come in, a kind of technology that can be used to provide solely needed information to a target audience, all the while being cryptographically secured on the blockchain using a cryptography function. The end result is beautiful – a system providing a better, more convenient user experience, one that greatly reduces data misuse and identity fraud. Organizations employing and partnering with such technologies undoubtedly see increased consumer confidence and reputation as a result. How does it work? It’s all very well in theory, but understanding how SSIs work in practice is equally as important. There are three main aspects to any SSI system: – this is the individual creating the decentralized identifier with the help of a digital wallet. For example, an individual embarking on a job search, looking to prove his or her academic suitability for the task at hand. The holder is the one receiving Verifiable Credentials (in other words, digital, cryptographically secure digital credentials that may be presented to the employer). The holder – this relates to the recognized authority responsible for issuing verifiable credentials to the holder. For example, the passport office, a university, or a training center. The issuer – this is the party requesting the check. This could be an employer looking to verify an individual’s right to residency, an online shop verifying the age of a customer, or a bank verifying a mortgage applicant’s credit score. The verifier Due to the convenience of such technology and its ability to massively reduce instances of data breaches and identity theft, there are already a handful of solutions working on SSIs today. Dock Wallet is a great example – an app that lets a holder conveniently import a range of digitally verifiable credentials via QR Code or JSON file. As each of these credentials is permanently verified on the blockchain, the role of the issuer diminishes as ownership is transferred to the holder. Competing, more technologically complex solutions such as Gitcoin also serve to accelerate the adoption of decentralized identifiers with greater choice when it comes to credentials. Many firms are also experimenting with Sismo badges, or SBTs for short, a kind of technology that serves to tokenize identity. Ultimately, these badges prove the ownership of select Data Shards that are stored in user vaults. These shards facilitate the categorization of users without the revelation of any sensitive personal data. Badges might be ‘contributors to a specific GitHub repository’, could indicate long-term use of a certain blockchain, or they might relate to something as simple as nationality. Problems with implementation In theory, SSIs work. In practice, SSIs work. However, just because something solves a problem doesn’t guarantee its widespread adoption. Many barriers still lie in the way of SSI systematic adoption, characteristic of the border issues with the transition to Web3: The first stumbling block lies in the s. When digital transformation happens at different rates across industries, there can be great challenges for businesses such as Dock Wallet. For example, if an organization has implemented a different identity and access management policy to its customers, then Dock Wallet’s SSI on the customer end will be useless. If customers don’t have a use for the technology, then regardless of the hypothetical beauty, it simply won’t be downloaded. backward compatibility of self-sovereign identitie The next hurdle is familiar to systems of decentralized finance and relates to the steep and involved in understanding and interacting with blockchain technologies. Consumers are ultimately used to handling simpler methods of access authorization, and with the amount of anti-blockchain press being peddled by the media, it’s unlikely that a newcomer is going to be open to storing their sensitive data on the blockchain. In short, the adoption of blockchain technologies as a whole seeps into the issues surrounding the implementation of mass SSI. complex learning curve An issue specific to SSIs, however, is that PII (personal identifiable information) will still be created in order to create verifiable credentials. Moreover, due to the current legal landscape and associated costs, verifiers are likely to copy credentials and have PIIs of their own. This means that while the storage of personal data is less centralized, there are still barriers to true decentralization, and the possibility of data breaches and information theft isn’t completely stamped out. centralized databases Another important point to make is that the widespread adoption of SSIs is c of large companies. As one of the consumer-side benefits relates to greater online anonymity, businesses will no longer be able to target audiences on a microscopic level. As, more often than not, the larger companies are the ones with industry-moving power, they may choose the more profitable, and therefore more privacy-invasive option of inhibiting the growth of SSI technology. ounter-productive for the marketing efforts The last notable issue facing the widespread adoption of SSIs is . Higher costs are associated with longer dApp testing periods, and PKI (public key infrastructure) solutions are much easier to securely implement. the complexity of developer environments If these barriers cannot be overcome quickly, the community excitement surrounding digital identities may dwindle until a significant technological breakthrough can be made. What are the solutions? Despite the challenges facing the widespread adoption of digital identities, there are a range of projects, just like Dock Wallet, aiming to navigate them. The first solution relates to the and would propose a hybrid approach to verifying identity, be it digital or physical. backward compatibility problem One doesn’t have to glance back very far to analyze how contactless payment cards came into play. Readers (or in our case, the verifier) could accept both contactless and contact-based payment methods. Only then, after a public adoption period, did contactless-only terminals begin to surface. This is certainly how we would aim to approach the backward compatibility problem. On the customer side, it’s all but a waiting game. Statistically speaking, the percentage of blockchain-literate individuals is increasing at a rate not too far away from computer literacy in the 1990’s. In terms of , new projects such as Gitcoin are beginning to gain traction. Now, the Gitcoin Passport on offer by Gitcoin is gaining momentum as the industry standard. On this platform, users can create an SSI and release a large set of verifiable credentials – far greater than those on offer by Dock. Via the Gitcoin terminal, stamps can be attained where the platform itself acts as the issuer. Regardless of the platform giving even greater power to the user, ready-made infrastructure still exists to protect against Sybil attacks with liveness checks and KYC. Moreover, Gitcoin is built on a decentralized data network known as Ceramic. This is known in the industry as being the Web3 standard for storing DIDs and VCs – as such, Gitcoin has much better grounding when it comes to solving the integration problems that Dock currently faces. fighting persistent centralization In terms of the to accept such solutions, it’s also a waiting game. With recent legislation such as GDPR in the EU setting out a framework for how companies process data, there’s an observable regulatory trendsetting the stage for a more anonymous world. willingness of ‘big corporations’ In the evolving landscape of self-sovereign identity (SSI), World ID, introduced by Worldcoin, emerges as an exemplar of innovation combined with privacy. This decentralized identity protocol seeks to sidestep many of the traditional hurdles faced by SSI platforms. Instead of relying on centralized agencies or personal data like names and emails, World ID underscores a user's uniqueness through zero-knowledge proofs, ensuring that users remain in complete control of their personal data. The protocol's multi-faceted verification approach, which includes phone number verification and Orb biometric authentication, further diversifies its identity validation methods. World ID's emphasis on creating a privacy-first, decentralized identity solution addresses many concerns regarding data monopolies and centralized control. However, as with other SSI platforms, its widespread acceptance will require addressing challenges such as global interoperability, universal recognition, and user education about the importance of data privacy. World ID's strategy, rooted in decentralization and fortified by advanced cryptographic methods, signals a promising trajectory for the mass adoption of SSI. Final thoughts While the solutions proposed are speculative, and hypothetical in most instances, they all point towards time as a common factor. Indeed, a conclusion can be drawn that as time goes on, blockchain literacy will increase on both the developer and the consumer sides. With ongoing data breaches across a vast number of industries, regulation may very well assist in the growth of SSI popularity, especially in the world of big corporations. Indeed, with time, applications such as Dock Wallet will expand their product offering and explore more hybrid integration methods. There’s no doubt that the challenges facing the mass adoption of self-sovereign identity are vast and difficult to overcome, but the dream of true privacy and selective disclosure is vivid, and Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Self-Sovereign Identity and the Challenges Facing its Mass Adoption

Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . The Doctor Drinks His Tea here The Doctor Drinks His Tea The doctor got on his cob and went his way, returning duly to Greshamsbury. But, in truth, as he went he hardly knew whither he was going, or what he was doing. Sir Roger had hinted that the cob would be compelled to make up for lost time by extra exertion on the road; but the cob had never been permitted to have his own way as to pace more satisfactorily than on the present occasion. The doctor, indeed, hardly knew that he was on horseback, so completely was he enveloped in the cloud of his own thoughts. In the first place, that alternative which it had become him to put before the baronet as one unlikely to occur—that of the speedy death of both father and son—was one which he felt in his heart of hearts might very probably come to pass. "The chances are ten to one that such a clause will never be brought to bear." This he had said partly to himself, so as to ease the thoughts which came crowding on his brain; partly, also, in pity for the patient and the father. But now that he thought the matter over, he felt that there were no such odds. Were not the odds the other way? Was it not almost probable that both these men might be gathered to their long account within the next four years? One, the elder, was a strong man, indeed; one who might yet live for years to come if he would but give himself fair play. But then, he himself protested, and protested with a truth too surely grounded, that fair play to himself was beyond his own power to give. The other, the younger, had everything against him. Not only was he a poor, puny creature, without physical strength, one of whose life a friend could never feel sure under any circumstances, but he also was already addicted to his father's vices; he also was already killing himself with alcohol. And then, if these two men did die within the prescribed period, if this clause in Sir Roger's will were brought to bear, if it should become his, Dr Thorne's, duty to see that clause carried out, how would he be bound to act? That woman's eldest child was his own niece, his adopted bairn, his darling, the pride of his heart, the cynosure of his eye, his child also, his own Mary. Of all his duties on this earth, next to that one great duty to his God and conscience, was his duty to her. What, under these circumstances, did his duty to her require of him? But then, that one great duty, that duty which she would be the first to expect from him; what did that demand of him? Had Scatcherd made his will without saying what its clauses were, it seemed to Thorne that Mary must have been the heiress, should that clause become necessarily operative. Whether she were so or not would at any rate be for lawyers to decide. But now the case was very different. This rich man had confided in him, and would it not be a breach of confidence, an act of absolute dishonesty—an act of dishonesty both to Scatcherd and to that far-distant American family, to that father, who, in former days, had behaved so nobly, and to that eldest child of his, would it not be gross dishonesty to them all if he allowed this man to leave a will by which his property might go to a person never intended to be his heir? Long before he had arrived at Greshamsbury his mind on this point had been made up. Indeed, it had been made up while sitting there by Scatcherd's bedside. It had not been difficult to make up his mind to so much; but then, his way out of this dishonesty was not so easy for him to find. How should he set this matter right so as to inflict no injury on his niece, and no sorrow to himself—if that indeed could be avoided? And then other thoughts crowded on his brain. He had always professed—professed at any rate to himself and to her—that of all the vile objects of a man's ambition, wealth, wealth merely for its own sake, was the vilest. They, in their joint school of inherent philosophy, had progressed to ideas which they might find it not easy to carry out, should they be called on by events to do so. And if this would have been difficult to either when acting on behalf of self alone, how much more difficult when one might have to act for the other! This difficulty had now come to the uncle. Should he, in this emergency, take upon himself to fling away the golden chance which might accrue to his niece if Scatcherd should be encouraged to make her partly his heir? "He'd want her to go and live there—to live with him and his wife. All the money in the Bank of England would not pay her for such misery," said the doctor to himself, as he slowly rode into his own yard. On one point, and one only, had he definitely made up his mind. On the following day he would go over again to Boxall Hill, and would tell Scatcherd the whole truth. Come what might, the truth must be the best. And so, with some gleam of comfort, he went into the house, and found his niece in the drawing-room with Patience Oriel. "Mary and I have been quarrelling," said Patience. "She says the doctor is the greatest man in a village; and I say the parson is, of course." "I only say that the doctor is the most looked after," said Mary. "There's another horrid message for you to go to Silverbridge, uncle. Why can't that Dr Century manage his own people?" "She says," continued Miss Oriel, "that if a parson was away for a month, no one would miss him; but that a doctor is so precious that his very minutes are counted." "I am sure uncle's are. They begrudge him his meals. Mr Oriel never gets called away to Silverbridge." "No; we in the Church manage our parish arrangements better than you do. We don't let strange practitioners in among our flocks because the sheep may chance to fancy them. Our sheep have to put up with our spiritual doses whether they like them or not. In that respect we are much the best off. I advise you, Mary, to marry a clergyman, by all means." "I will when you marry a doctor," said she. "I am sure nothing on earth would give me greater pleasure," said Miss Oriel, getting up and curtseying very low to Dr Thorne; "but I am not quite prepared for the agitation of an offer this morning, so I'll run away." And so she went; and the doctor, getting on his other horse, started again for Silverbridge, wearily enough. "She's happy now where she is," said he to himself, as he rode along. "They all treat her there as an equal at Greshamsbury. What though she be no cousin to the Thornes of Ullathorne. She has found her place there among them all, and keeps it on equal terms with the best of them. There is Miss Oriel; her family is high; she is rich, fashionable, a beauty, courted by every one; but yet she does not look down on Mary. They are equal friends together. But how would it be if she were taken to Boxall Hill, even as a recognised niece of the rich man there? Would Patience Oriel and Beatrice Gresham go there after her? Could she be happy there as she is in my house here, poor though it be? It would kill her to pass a month with Lady Scatcherd and put up with that man's humours, to see his mode of life, to be dependent on him, to belong to him." And then the doctor, hurrying on to Silverbridge, again met Dr Century at the old lady's bedside, and having made his endeavours to stave off the inexorable coming of the grim visitor, again returned to his own niece and his own drawing-room. "You must be dead, uncle," said Mary, as she poured out his tea for him, and prepared the comforts of that most comfortable meal—tea, dinner, and supper, all in one. "I wish Silverbridge was fifty miles off." "That would only make the journey worse; but I am not dead yet, and, what is more to the purpose, neither is my patient." And as he spoke he contrived to swallow a jorum of scalding tea, containing in measure somewhat near a pint. Mary, not a whit amazed at this feat, merely refilled the jorum without any observation; and the doctor went on stirring the mixture with his spoon, evidently oblivious that any ceremony had been performed by either of them since the first supply had been administered to him. When the clatter of knives and forks was over, the doctor turned himself to the hearthrug, and putting one leg over the other, he began to nurse it as he looked with complacency at his third cup of tea, which stood untasted beside him. The fragments of the solid banquet had been removed, but no sacrilegious hand had been laid on the teapot and the cream-jug. "Mary," said he, "suppose you were to find out to-morrow morning that, by some accident, you had become a great heiress, would you be able to suppress your exultation?" "The first thing I'd do, would be to pronounce a positive edict that you should never go to Silverbridge again; at least without a day's notice." "Well, and what next? what would you do next?" "The next thing—the next thing would be to send to Paris for a French bonnet exactly like the one Patience Oriel had on. Did you see it?" "Well I can't say I did; bonnets are invisible now; besides I never remark anybody's clothes, except yours." "Oh! do look at Miss Oriel's bonnet the next time you see her. I cannot understand why it should be so, but I am sure of this—no English fingers could put together such a bonnet as that; and I am nearly sure that no French fingers could do it in England." "But you don't care so much about bonnets, Mary!" This the doctor said as an assertion; but there was, nevertheless, somewhat of a question involved in it. "Don't I, though?" said she. "I do care very much about bonnets; especially since I saw Patience this morning. I asked how much it cost—guess." "Oh! I don't know—a pound?" "A pound, uncle!" "What! a great deal more? Ten pounds?" "Oh, uncle." "What! more than ten pounds? Then I don't think even Patience Oriel ought to give it." "No, of course she would not; but, uncle, it really cost a hundred francs!" "Oh! a hundred francs; that's four pounds, isn't it? Well, and how much did your last new bonnet cost?" "Mine! oh, nothing—five and ninepence, perhaps; I trimmed it myself. If I were left a great fortune, I'd send to Paris to-morrow; no, I'd go myself to Paris to buy a bonnet, and I'd take you with me to choose it." The doctor sat silent for a while meditating about this, during which he unconsciously absorbed the tea beside him; and Mary again replenished his cup. "Come, Mary," said he at last, "I'm in a generous mood; and as I am rather more rich than usual, we'll send to Paris for a French bonnet. The going for it must wait a while longer I am afraid." "You're joking." "No, indeed. If you know the way to send—that I must confess would puzzle me; but if you'll manage the sending, I'll manage the paying; and you shall have a French bonnet." "Uncle!" said she, looking up at him. "Oh, I'm not joking; I owe you a present, and I'll give you that." "And if you do, I'll tell you what I'll do with it. I'll cut it into fragments, and burn them before your face. Why, uncle, what do you take me for? You're not a bit nice to-night to make such an offer as that to me; not a bit, not a bit." And then she came over from her seat at the tea-tray and sat down on a foot-stool close at his knee. "Because I'd have a French bonnet if I had a large fortune, is that a reason why I should like one now? if you were to pay four pounds for a bonnet for me, it would scorch my head every time I put it on." "I don't see that: four pounds would not ruin me. However, I don't think you'd look a bit better if you had it; and, certainly, I should not like to scorch these locks," and putting his hand upon her shoulders, he played with her hair. "Patience has a pony-phaeton, and I'd have one if I were rich; and I'd have all my books bound as she does; and, perhaps, I'd give fifty guineas for a dressing-case." "Fifty guineas!" "Patience did not tell me; but so Beatrice says. Patience showed it to me once, and it is a darling. I think I'd have the dressing-case before the bonnet. But, uncle—" "Well?" "You don't suppose I want such things?" "Not improperly. I am sure you do not." "Not properly, or improperly; not much, or little. I covet many things; but nothing of that sort. You know, or should know, that I do not. Why did you talk of buying a French bonnet for me?" Dr Thorne did not answer this question, but went on nursing his leg. "After all," said he, "money is a fine thing." "Very fine, when it is well come by," she answered; "that is, without detriment to the heart or soul." "I should be a happier man if you were provided for as is Miss Oriel. Suppose, now, I could give you up to a rich man who would be able to insure you against all wants?" "Insure me against all wants! Oh, that would be a man. That would be selling me, wouldn't it, uncle? Yes, selling me; and the price you would receive would be freedom from future apprehensions as regards me. It would be a cowardly sale for you to make; and then, as to me—me the victim. No, uncle; you must bear the misery of having to provide for me—bonnets and all. We are in the same boat, and you shan't turn me overboard." "But if I were to die, what would you do then?" "And if I were to die, what would you do? People must be bound together. They must depend on each other. Of course, misfortunes may come; but it is cowardly to be afraid of them beforehand. You and I are bound together, uncle; and though you say these things to tease me, I know you do not wish to get rid of me." "Well, well; we shall win through, doubtless; if not in one way, then in another." "Win through! Of course we shall; who doubts our winning? but, uncle—" "But, Mary." "Well?" "You haven't got another cup of tea, have you?" "Oh, uncle! you have had five." "No, my dear! not five; only four—only four, I assure you; I have been very particular to count. I had one while I was—" "Five uncle; indeed and indeed." "Well, then, as I hate the prejudice which attaches luck to an odd number, I'll have a sixth to show that I am not superstitious." While Mary was preparing the sixth jorum, there came a knock at the door. Those late summonses were hateful to Mary's ear, for they were usually the forerunners of a midnight ride through the dark lanes to some farmer's house. The doctor had been in the saddle all day, and, as Janet brought the note into the room, Mary stood up as though to defend her uncle from any further invasion on his rest. "A note from the house, miss," said Janet: now "the house," in Greshamsbury parlance, always meant the squire's mansion. "No one ill at the house, I hope," said the doctor, taking the note from Mary's hand. "Oh—ah—yes; it's from the squire—there's nobody ill: wait a minute, Janet, and I'll write a line. Mary, lend me your desk." The squire, anxious as usual for money, had written to ask what success the doctor had had in negotiating the new loan with Sir Roger. The fact, however, was, that in his visit at Boxall Hill, the doctor had been altogether unable to bring on the carpet the matter of this loan. Subjects had crowded themselves in too quickly during that interview—those two interviews at Sir Roger's bedside; and he had been obliged to leave without even alluding to the question. "I must at any rate go back now," said he to himself. So he wrote to the squire, saying that he was to be at Boxall Hill again on the following day, and that he would call at the house on his return. "That's settled, at any rate," said he. "What's settled?" said Mary. "Why, I must go to Boxall Hill again to-morrow. I must go early, too, so we'd better both be off to bed. Tell Janet I must breakfast at half-past seven." "You couldn't take me, could you? I should so like to see that Sir Roger." "To see Sir Roger! Why, he's ill in bed." "That's an objection, certainly; but some day, when he's well, could not you take me over? I have the greatest desire to see a man like that; a man who began with nothing and now has more than enough to buy the whole parish of Greshamsbury." "I don't think you'd like him at all." "Why not? I am sure I should; I am sure I should like him, and Lady Scatcherd, too. I've heard you say that she is an excellent woman." "Yes, in her way; and he, too, is good in his way; but they are neither of them in your way: they are extremely vulgar—" "Oh! I don't mind that; that would make them more amusing; one doesn't go to those sort of people for polished manners." "I don't think you'd find the Scatcherds pleasant acquaintances at all," said the doctor, taking his bed-candle, and kissing his niece's forehead as he left the room. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Anthony Trollope (2002). Doctor Thorne. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/3166/pg3166-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html.

The Doctor Drinks His Tea

Frank Gresham's Early Loves

An Adventure Amidst the Industrial Revolution

The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . Chapter VIII here Chapter VIII So the convicts were still there, watching the corral, and determined to kill the settlers one after the other. There was nothing to be done but to treat them as wild beasts. But great precautions must be taken, for just now the wretches had the advantage on their side, seeing, and not being seen, being able to surprise by the suddenness of their attack, yet not to be surprised themselves. Harding made arrangements, therefore, for living in the corral, of which the provisions would last for a tolerable length of time. Ayrton’s house had been provided with all that was necessary for existence, and the convicts, scared by the arrival of the settlers, had not had time to pillage it. It was probable, as Gideon Spilett observed, that things had occurred as follows: The six convicts, disembarking on the island, had followed the southern shore, and after having traversed the double shore of the Serpentine Peninsula, not being inclined to venture into the Far West woods, they had reached the mouth of Falls River. From this point, by following the right bank of the watercourse, they would arrive at the spurs of Mount Franklin, among which they would naturally seek a retreat, and they could not have been long in discovering the corral, then uninhabited. There they had regularly installed themselves, awaiting the moment to put their abominable schemes into execution. Ayrton’s arrival had surprised them, but they had managed to overpower the unfortunate man, and—the rest may be easily imagined! Now, the convicts,—reduced to five, it is true, but well armed,—were roaming the woods, and to venture there was to expose themselves to their attacks, which could be neither guarded against nor prevented. “Wait! There is nothing else to be done!” repeated Cyrus Harding. “When Herbert is cured, we can organize a general battle of the island, and have satisfaction of these convicts. That will be the object of our grand expedition at the same time—” “As the search for our mysterious protector,” added Gideon Spilett, finishing the engineer’s sentence. “And it must be acknowledged, my dear Cyrus, that this time his protection was wanting at the very moment when it was most necessary to us!” “Who knows?” replied the engineer. “What do you mean?” asked the reporter. “That we are not at the end of our trouble yet, my dear Spilett, and that his powerful intervention may have another opportunity of exercising itself. But that is not the question now. Herbert’s life before everything.” This was the colonists’ saddest thought. Several days passed, and the poor boy’s state was happily no worse. Cold water, always kept at a suitable temperature, had completely prevented the inflammation of the wounds. It even seemed to the reporter that this water, being slightly sulphurous,—which was explained by the neighborhood of the volcano, had a more direct action on the healing. The suppuration was much less abundant, and thanks to the incessant care by which he was surrounded!—Herbert returned to life, and his fever abated. He was besides subjected to a severe diet, and consequently his weakness was and would be extreme; but there was no want of refreshing drinks, and absolute rest was of the greatest benefit to him. Cyrus Harding, Gideon Spilett, and Pencroft had become very skilful in dressing the lad’s wounds. All the linen in the house had been sacrificed. Herbert’s wounds, covered with compresses and lint, were pressed neither too much nor too little, so as to cause their cicatrization without effecting any inflammatory reaction. The reporter used extreme care in the dressing, knowing well the importance of it, and repeating to his companions that which most surgeons willingly admit, that it is perhaps rarer to see a dressing well done than an operation well performed. In ten days, on the 22nd of November, Herbert was considerably better. He had begun to take some nourishment. The color was returning to his cheeks, and his bright eyes smiled at his nurses. He talked a little, notwithstanding Pencroft’s efforts, who talked incessantly to prevent him from beginning to speak, and told him the most improbable stories. Herbert had questioned him on the subject of Ayrton, whom he was astonished not to see near him, thinking that he was at the corral. But the sailor, not wishing to distress Herbert, contented himself by replying that Ayrton had rejoined Neb, so as to defend Granite House. “Humph!” said Pencroft, “these pirates! they are gentlemen who have no right to any consideration! And the captain wanted to win them by kindness! I’ll send them some kindness, but in the shape of a good bullet!” “And have they not been seen again?” asked Herbert. “No, my boy,” answered the sailor, “but we shall find them, and when you are cured we shall see if the cowards who strike us from behind will dare to meet us face to face!” “I am still very weak, my poor Pencroft!” “Well! your strength will return gradually! What’s a ball through the chest? Nothing but a joke! I’ve seen many, and I don’t think much of them!” At last things appeared to be going on well, and if no complication occurred, Herbert’s recovery might be regarded as certain. But what would have been the condition of the colonists if his state had been aggravated,—if, for example, the ball had remained in his body, if his arm or his leg had had to be amputated? “No,” said Spilett more than once, “I have never thought of such a contingency without shuddering!” “And yet, if it had been necessary to operate,” said Harding one day to him, “you would not have hesitated?” “No, Cyrus!” said Gideon Spilett, “but thank God that we have been spared this complication!” As in so many other conjectures, the colonists had appealed to the logic of that simple good sense of which they had made use so often, and once more, thanks to their general knowledge, it had succeeded! But might not a time come when all their science would be at fault? They were alone on the island. Now, men in all states of society are necessary to each other. Cyrus Harding knew this well, and sometimes he asked if some circumstance might not occur which they would be powerless to surmount. It appeared to him besides, that he and his companions, till then so fortunate, had entered into an unlucky period. During the two years and a half which had elapsed since their escape from Richmond, it might be said that they had had everything their own way. The island had abundantly supplied them with minerals, vegetables, animals, and as Nature had constantly loaded them, their science had known how to take advantage of what she offered them. The wellbeing of the colony was therefore complete. Moreover, in certain occurrences an inexplicable influence had come to their aid!... But all that could only be for a time. In short, Cyrus Harding believed that fortune had turned against them. In fact, the convicts’ ship had appeared in the waters of the island, and if the pirates had been, so to speak, miraculously destroyed, six of them, at least, had escaped the catastrophe. They had disembarked on the island, and it was almost impossible to get at the five who survived. Ayrton had no doubt been murdered by these wretches, who possessed firearms, and at the first use that they had made of them, Herbert had fallen, wounded almost mortally. Were these the first blows aimed by adverse fortune at the colonists? This was often asked by Harding. This was often repeated by the reporter; and it appeared to him also that the intervention, so strange, yet so efficacious, which till then had served them so well, had now failed them. Had this mysterious being, whatever he was, whose existence could not be denied, abandoned the island? Had he in his turn succumbed? No reply was possible to these questions. But it must not be imagined that because Harding and his companions spoke of these things, they were men to despair. Far from that. They looked their situation in the face, they analyzed the chances, they prepared themselves for any event, they stood firm and straight before the future, and if adversity was at last to strike them, it would find in them men prepared to struggle against it. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (1998). The Mysterious Island. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1268/1268-h/1268-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

The convicts were still there, watching the corral

A Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book . A RAPID RECOVERY here CHAPTER XXVI - A RAPID RECOVERY When I returned to the consciousness of existence, I found myself surrounded by a kind of semiobscurity, lying on some thick and soft coverlets. My uncle was watching—his eyes fixed intently on my countenance, a grave expression on his face, a tear in his eye. At the first sigh which struggled from my bosom, he took hold of my hand. When he saw my eyes open and fix themselves upon his, he uttered a loud cry of joy. "He lives! he lives!" "Yes, my good uncle," I whispered. "My dear boy," continued the grim Professor, clasping me to his heart, "you are saved!" I was deeply and unaffectedly touched by the tone in which these words were uttered, and even more by the kindly care which accompanied them. The Professor, however, was one of those men who must be severely tried in order to induce any display of affection or gentle emotion. At this moment our friend Hans, the guide, joined us. He saw my hand in that of my uncle, and I venture to say that, taciturn as he was, his eyes beamed with lively satisfaction. "God dag," he said. "Good day, Hans, good day," I replied, in as hearty a tone as I could assume, "and now, Uncle, that we are together, tell me where we are. I have lost all idea of our position, as of everything else." "Tomorrow, Harry, tomorrow," he replied. "Today you are far too weak. Your head is surrounded with bandages and poultices that must not be touched. Sleep, my boy, sleep, and tomorrow you will know all that you require." "But," I cried, "let me know what o'clock it is—what day it is?" "It is now eleven o'clock at night, and this is once more Sunday. It is now the ninth of the month of August. And I distinctly prohibit you from asking any more questions until the tenth of the same." I was, if the truth were told, very weak indeed, and my eyes soon closed involuntarily. I did require a good night's rest, and I went off reflecting at the last moment that my perilous adventure in the interior of the earth, in total darkness, had lasted four days! On the morning of the next day, at my awakening, I began to look around me. My sleeping place, made of all our traveling bedding, was in a charming grotto, adorned with magnificent stalagmites, glittering in all the colors of the rainbow, the floor of soft and silvery sand. A dim obscurity prevailed. No torch, no lamp was lighted, and yet certain unexplained beams of light penetrated from without, and made their way through the opening of the beautiful grotto. I, moreover, heard a vague and indefinite murmur, like the ebb and flow of waves upon a strand, and sometimes I verily believed I could hear the sighing of the wind. I began to believe that, instead of being awake, I must be dreaming. Surely my brain had not been affected by my fall, and all that occurred during the last twenty-four hours was not the frenzied visions of madness? And yet after some reflection, a trial of my faculties, I came to the conclusion that I could not be mistaken. Eyes and ears could not surely both deceive me. "It is a ray of the blessed daylight," I said to myself, "which has penetrated through some mighty fissure in the rocks. But what is the meaning of this murmur of waves, this unmistakable moaning of the salt-sea billows? I can hear, too, plainly enough, the whistling of the wind. But can I be altogether mistaken? If my uncle, during my illness, has but carried me back to the surface of the earth! Has he, on my account, given up his wondrous expedition, or in some strange manner has it come to an end?" I was puzzling my brain over these and other questions, when the Professor joined me. "Good day, Harry," he cried in a joyous tone. "I fancy you are quite well." "I am very much better," I replied, actually sitting up in my bed. "I knew that would be the end of it, as you slept both soundly and tranquilly. Hans and I have each taken turn to watch, and every hour we have seen visible signs of amelioration." "You must be right, Uncle," was my reply, "for I feel as if I could do justice to any meal you could put before me." "You shall eat, my boy, you shall eat. The fever has left you. Our excellent friend Hans has rubbed your wounds and bruises with I know not what ointment, of which the Icelanders alone possess the secret. And they have healed your bruises in the most marvelous manner. Ah, he's a wise fellow is Master Hans." While he was speaking, my uncle was placing before me several articles of food, which, despite his earnest injunctions, I readily devoured. As soon as the first rage of hunger was appeased, I overwhelmed him with questions, to which he now no longer hesitated to give answers. I then learned, for the first time, that my providential fall had brought me to the bottom of an almost perpendicular gallery. As I came down, amidst a perfect shower of stones, the least of which falling on me would have crushed me to death, they came to the conclusion that I had carried with me an entire dislocated rock. Riding as it were on this terrible chariot, I was cast headlong into my uncle's arms. And into them I fell, insensible and covered with blood. "It is indeed a miracle," was the Professor's final remark, "that you were not killed a thousand times over. But let us take care never to separate; for surely we should risk never meeting again." "Let us take care never again to separate." These words fell with a sort of chill upon my heart. The journey, then, was not over. I looked at my uncle with surprise and astonishment. My uncle, after an instant's examination of my countenance, said: "What is the matter, Harry?" "I want to ask you a very serious question. You say that I am all right in health?" "Certainly you are." "And all my limbs are sound and capable of new exertion?" I asked. "Most undoubtedly." "But what about my head?" was my next anxious question. "Well, your head, except that you have one or two contusions, is exactly where it ought to be—on your shoulders," said my uncle, laughing. "Well, my own opinion is that my head is not exactly right. In fact, I believe myself slightly delirious." "What makes you think so?" "I will explain why I fancy I have lost my senses," I cried. "Have we not returned to the surface of Mother Earth?" "Certainly not." "Then truly I must be mad, for do I not see the light of day? do I not hear the whistling of the wind? and can I not distinguish the wash of a great sea?" "And that is all that makes you uneasy?" said my uncle, with a smile. "Can you explain?" "I will not make any attempt to explain; for the whole matter is utterly inexplicable. But you shall see and judge for yourself. You will then find that geological science is as yet in its infancy—and that we are doomed to enlighten the world." "Let us advance, then," I cried eagerly, no longer able to restrain my curiosity. "Wait a moment, my dear Harry," he responded; "you must take precautions after your illness before going into the open air." "The open air?" "Yes, my boy. I have to warn you that the wind is rather violent—and I have no wish for you to expose yourself without necessary precautions." "But I beg to assure you that I am perfectly recovered from my illness." "Have just a little patience, my boy. A relapse would be inconvenient to all parties. We have no time to lose—as our approaching sea voyage may be of long duration." "Sea voyage?" I cried, more bewildered than ever. "Yes. You must take another day's rest, and we shall be ready to go on board by tomorrow," replied my uncle, with a peculiar smile. "Go on board!" The words utterly astonished me. Go on board—what and how? Had we come upon a river, a lake, had we discovered some inland sea? Was a vessel lying at anchor in some part of the interior of the earth? My curiosity was worked up to the very highest pitch. My uncle made vain attempts to restrain me. When at last, however, he discovered that my feverish impatience would do more harm than good—and that the satisfaction of my wishes could alone restore me to a calm state of mind—he gave way. I dressed myself rapidly—and then taking the precaution to please my uncle, of wrapping myself in one of the coverlets, I rushed out of the grotto. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Jules Verne (2006). A Journey to the Center of the Earth. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved October 2022 https://www.gutenberg.org/files/18857/18857-h/18857-h.htm This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at , located at . www.gutenberg.org https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html

A RAPID RECOVERY

The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie, is part of the HackerNoon Books Series. You can jump to any chapter in this book here . A Midnight Adventure XVII. A Midnight Adventure The inquest took place on the following morning. It was extraordinarily unlike the inquests as pictured in sensational fiction. It satisfied even George Lomax in its rigid suppression of all interesting details. Superintendent Battle and the Coroner, working together with the support of the Chief Constable, had reduced the proceedings to the lowest level of boredom. Immediately after the inquest, Anthony took an unostentatious departure. His departure was the one bright spot in the day for Bill Eversleigh. George Lomax, obsessed with the fear that something damaging to his Department might leak out, had been exceedingly trying. Miss Oscar and Bill had been in constant attendance. Everything useful and interesting had been done by Miss Oscar. Bill’s part had been to run to and fro with countless messages, to decode telegrams, and to listen by the hour to George repeating himself. It was a completely exhausted young man who retired to bed on Saturday night. He had had practically no chance to talk to Virginia all day, owing to George’s exactions, and he felt injured and ill-used. Thank goodness, that Colonial fellow had taken himself off. He had monopolized far too much of Virginia’s society anyway. And of course if George Lomax went on making an ass of himself like this—— His mind seething with resentment, Bill fell asleep. And, in dreams, came consolation. For he dreamt of Virginia. It was an heroic dream, a dream of burning timbers in which he played the part of the gallant rescuer. He brought down Virginia from the topmost story in his arms. She was unconscious. He laid her on the grass. Then he went off to find a packet of sandwiches. It was most important that he should find that packet of sandwiches. George had it, but instead of giving it up to Bill, he began to dictate telegrams. They were now in the vestry of a church, and any minute Virginia might arrive to be married to him. Horror! He was wearing pyjamas. He must get home at once and find his proper clothes. He rushed out to the car. The car would not start. No petrol in the tank! He was getting desperate. And then a big General ’bus drew up and Virginia got out of it on the arm of the bald headed Baron. She was deliciously cool, and exquisitely dressed in grey. She came over to him and shook him by the shoulders playfully. “Bill,” she said. “Oh, Bill.” She shook him harder. “Bill,” she said. “Wake up. Oh, do wake up!” Very dazed, Bill woke up. He was in his bedroom at Chimneys. But part of the dream was with him still. Virginia was leaning over him, and was repeating the same words with variations. “Wake up, Bill. Oh, do wake up. Bill.” “Hullo!” said Bill, sitting up in bed. “What’s the matter?” Virginia gave a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. I thought you’d never wake up. I’ve been shaking you and shaking you. Are you properly awake now?” “I think so,” said Bill doubtfully. “You great lump,” said Virginia. “The trouble I’ve had! My arms are aching.” “These insults are uncalled for,” said Bill, with dignity. “Let me say, Virginia, that I consider your conduct most unbecoming. Not at all that of a pure young widow.” “Don’t be an idiot, Bill. Things are happening.” “What kind of things?” “Queer things. In the Council Chamber. I thought I heard a door bang somewhere, and I came down to see. And then saw a light in the Council Chamber. I crept along the passage, and peeped through the crack of the door. I couldn’t see much, but what I could see was so extraordinary that I felt I must see more. And then, all of a sudden, I felt that I should like a nice, big, strong man with me. And you were the nicest and biggest and strongest man I could think of, so I came in and tried to wake you up quietly. But I’ve been ages doing it.” “I see,” said Bill. “And what do you want me to do now? Get up and tackle the burglars?” Virginia wrinkled her brows. “I’m not sure that they are burglars. Bill, it’s very queer—— But don’t let’s waste time talking. Get up.” Bill slipped obediently out of bed. “Wait while I don a pair of boots—the big ones with nails in them. However big and strong I am, I’m not going to tackle hardened criminals with bare feet.” “I like your pyjamas, Bill,” said Virginia dreamily. “Brightness without vulgarity.” “While we’re on the subject,” remarked Bill, reaching for his second boot, “I like that thingummybob of yours. It’s a pretty shade of green. What do you call it? It’s not just a dressing-gown, is it?” “It’s a négligé” said Virginia. “I’m glad you’ve led such a pure life, Bill.” “I haven’t,” said Bill indignantly. “You’ve just betrayed the fact. You’re very nice, Bill, and I like you. I dare say that to-morrow morning—say about ten o’clock, a good safe hour for not unduly exciting the emotions—I might even kiss you.” “I always think these things are best carried out on the spur of the moment,” suggested Bill. “We’ve other fish to fry,” said Virginia. “If you don’t want to put on a gas mask and a shirt of chain mail, shall we start?” “I’m ready,” said Bill. He wriggled into a lurid silk dressing-gown, and picked up a poker. “The orthodox weapon,” he observed. “Come on,” said Virginia, “and don’t make a noise.” They crept out of the room and along the corridor, and then down the wide double staircase. Virginia frowned as they reached the bottom of it. “Those boots of yours aren’t exactly domes of silence, are they, Bill?” “Nails will be nails,” said Bill. “I’m doing my best.” “You’ll have to take them off,” said Virginia firmly. Bill groaned. “You can carry them in your hand. I want to see if you can make out what’s going on in the Council Chamber. Bill, it’s awfully mysterious. Why should burglars take a man in armour to pieces?” “Well, I suppose they can’t take him away whole very well. They disarticulate him, and pack him neatly.” Virginia shook her head, dissatisfied. “What should they want to steal a mouldy old suit of armour for? Why, Chimneys is full of treasures that are much easier to take away.” Bill shook his head. “How many of them are there?” he asked, taking a firmer grip of his poker. “I couldn’t see properly. You know what a keyhole is. And they only had a flashlight.” “I expect they’ve gone by now,” said Bill hopefully. He sat down on the bottom stair and drew off his boots. Then, holding them in his hand, he crept along the passage that led to the Council Chamber, Virginia close behind him. They halted outside the massive oak door. All was silent within, but suddenly Virginia pressed his arm, and he nodded. A bright light had shown for a minute through the keyhole. Bill went down on his knees, and applied his eye to the orifice. What he saw was confusing in the extreme. The scene of the drama that was being enacted inside was evidently just to the left, out of his line of vision. A subdued chink every now and then seemed to point to the fact that the invaders were still dealing with the figure in armour. There were two of these, Bill remembered. They stood together by the wall just under the Holbein portrait. The light of the electric torch was evidently being directed upon the operations in progress. It left the rest of the room nearly in darkness. Once a figure flitted across Bill’s line of vision, but there was not sufficient light to distinguish anything about it. It might have been that of a man or a woman. In a minute or two it flitted back again and then the subdued chinking sounded again. Presently there came a new sound, a faint tap-tap as of knuckles on wood. Bill sat back on his heels suddenly. “What is it?” whispered Virginia. “Nothing. It’s no good going on like this. We can’t see anything, and we can’t guess what they’re up to. I must go in and tackle them.” He drew on his boots and stood up. “Now, Virginia, listen to me. We’ll open the door as softly as possible. You know where the switch of the electric light is?” “Yes, just by the door.” “I don’t think there are more than two of them. There may be only one. I want to get well into the room. Then, when I say ‘Go’ I want you to switch on the lights. Do you understand?” “Perfectly.” “And don’t scream or faint or anything. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” “My hero!” murmured Virginia. Bill peered at her suspiciously through the darkness. He heard a faint sound which might have been either a sob or a laugh. Then he grasped the poker firmly and rose to his feet. He felt that he was fully alive to the situation. Very softly he turned the handle of the door. It yielded and swung gently inwards. Bill felt Virginia close beside him. Together they moved noiselessly into the room. At the farther end of the room, the torch was playing upon the Holbein picture. Silhouetted against it was the figure of a man, standing on a chair and gently tapping on the panelling! His back, of course, was to them, and he merely loomed up as a monstrous shadow. What more they might have seen cannot be told, for at that moment Bill’s nails squeaked upon the parquet floor. The man swung round, directing the powerful torch full upon them and almost dazzling them with the sudden glare. Bill did not hesitate. “Go,” he roared to Virginia, and sprang for his man, as she obediently pressed down the switch of the electric lights. The big chandelier should have been flooded with light; but, instead, all that happened was the click of the switch. The room remained in darkness. Virginia heard Bill curse freely. The next minute the air was filled with panting, scuffling sounds. The torch had fallen to the ground and extinguished itself in the fall. There was the sound of a desperate struggle going on in the darkness, but as to who was getting the better of it, and indeed as to who was taking part in it, Virginia had no idea. Had there been anyone else in the room besides the man who was tapping the panelling? There might have been. Their glimpse had been only a momentary one. Virginia felt paralysed. She hardly knew what to do. She dared not try and join in the struggle. To do so might hamper and not aid Bill. Her one idea was to stay in the doorway, so that anyone trying to escape should not leave the room that way. At the same time, she disobeyed Bill’s express instructions and screamed loudly and repeatedly for help. She heard doors opening upstairs, and a sudden gleam of light from the hall and the big staircase. If only Bill could hold his man until help came. But at that minute there was a final terrific upheaval. They must have crashed into one of the figures in armour, for it fell to the ground with a deafening noise. Virginia saw dimly a figure springing for the window, and at the same time heard Bill cursing and disengaging himself from fragments of armour. For the first time, she left her post, and rushed wildly for the figure at the window. But the window was already unlatched. The intruder had no need to stop and fumble for it. He sprang out and raced away down the terrace and round the corner of the house. Virginia raced after him. She was young and athletic, and she turned the corner of the terrace not many seconds after her quarry. But there she ran headlong into the arms of a man who was emerging from a small side door. It was Mr. Hiram P. Fish. “Gee! It’s a lady,” he exclaimed. “Why, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Revel. I took you for one of the thugs fleeing from justice.” “He’s just passed this way,” cried Virginia breathlessly. “Can’t we catch him?” But, even as she spoke, she knew it was too late. The man must have gained the park by now, and it was a dark night with no moon. She retraced her steps to the Council Chamber, Mr. Fish by her side, discoursing in a soothing monotone upon the habits of burglars in general, of which he seemed to have a wide experience. Lord Caterham, Bundle, and various frightened servants were standing in the doorway of the Council Chamber. “What the devil’s the matter?” asked Bundle. “Is it burglars? What are you and Mr. Fish doing, Virginia? Taking a midnight stroll?” Virginia explained the events of the evening. “How frightfully exciting,” commented Bundle. “You don’t usually get a murder and a burglary crowded into one week-end. What’s the matter with the lights in here? They’re all right everywhere else.” That mystery was soon explained. The bulbs had simply been removed and laid in a row against the wall. Mounted on a pair of steps, the dignified Tredwell, dignified even in undress, restored illumination to the stricken apartment. “If I am not mistaken,” said Lord Caterham in his sad voice as he looked around him, “this room has recently been the centre of somewhat violent activity.” There was some justice in the remark. Everything that could have been knocked over had been knocked over. The floor was littered with splintered chairs, broken china, and fragments of armour. “How many of them were there?” asked Bundle. “It seems to have been a desperate fight.” “Only one, I think,” said Virginia. But, even as she spoke, she hesitated a little. Certainly only one person—a man—had passed out through the window. But as she had rushed after him, she had had a vague impression of a rustle somewhere close at hand. If so, the second occupant of the room could have escaped through the door. Perhaps, though, the rustle had been an effect of her own imagination. Bill appeared suddenly at the window. He was out of breath and panting hard. “Damn the fellow!” he exclaimed wrathfully. “He’s escaped. I’ve been hunting all over the place. Not a sign of him.” “Cheer up, Bill,” said Virginia, “better luck next time.” “Well,” said Lord Caterham, “what do you think we’d better do now? Go back to bed? I can’t get hold of Badgworthy at this time of night. Tredwell, you know the sort of thing that’s necessary. Just see to it, will you?” “Very good, my lord.” With a sigh of relief, Lord Caterham prepared to retreat. “That beggar, Isaacstein, sleeps soundly,” he remarked, with a touch of envy. “You’d have thought all this row would have brought him down.” He looked across at Mr. Fish. “You found time to dress, I see,” he added. “I flung on a few articles of clothing, yes,” admitted the American. “Very sensible of you,” said Lord Caterham. “Damned chilly things, pyjamas.” He yawned. In a rather depressed mood, the house party retired to bed. About HackerNoon Book Series: We bring you the most important technical, scientific, and insightful public domain books. This book is part of the public domain. Agatha Christie (1998). The Secret of Chimneys. Urbana, Illinois: Project Gutenberg. Retrieved https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/65238/pg65238-images.html This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org , located at https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html .

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