When it was Dark

About the Book

What would happen to the Christian faith if it could be proved beyond all doubt that Jesus did not rise from the dead? This is the situation when, at the end of the nineteenth century, eminent archaeologists working outside Jerusalem discover a tomb belonging to Joseph of Arimathea, with an inscription claiming that he took the body of Jesus from the first tomb and hid it. And there are even remains of a body. So no resurrection!

As churches quickly empty, some Christians cling to hope, saying that Jesus lives within them, so He must be the Son of God who rose from the dead. Others are relieved that they no longer have to believe and go to church. Society starts to break down.

With the backing of a wealthy industrialist, a young curate puts together a small team to investigate the involvement of a powerful atheist in the discovery. This is an abridged edition of a story first published in 1903. Although not written specifically for the Christian market, it will be a great and positive challenge to Christians today as we examine the reality of our faith.

When it Was Dark

by

Guy Thorne

With Author Biography

(1876-1923)

First published 1903

This new edition ©Lewis Faber 2017

Published jointly with North View Publishing

When it Was Dark is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this edition.

e-Book ISBN: 978-0-9954549-0-3

This Edition Published by

White Tree Publishing

Bristol

UNITED KINGDOM

wtpbristol@gmail.com

Full list of books and updates on

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Book

Author Biography

Introduction

Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

About White Tree Publishing

More Christian books from White Tree Publishing

Author Biography

Perhaps better known today as Guy Thorne, the writer of this book's real name was Cyril Arthur Edward Ranger Gull. He was given this long series of names by his father, the Rev'd Joseph Edward Gull, curate of the parish church of St. John the Baptist, in Little Hulton, a village between Manchester and Bolton in the north of England. Ranger Gull was born on 18 November 1875, and grew up with an interest in the church and the Christian faith, identifying with the Anglo-Catholic (High Church) Protestant branch of the church as he got older.

Ranger Gull's education was at Denstone College in Utoxeter, Staffordshire, a Church of England school with the motto Lignum crucis arbor scientiae (The wood of the cross is the tree of knowledge). He was also at Manchester Grammar School, founded in the 16th century as a free grammar school.

After such a promising start in education at two of the top English schools, it was natural for Ranger Gull to go to either Oxford or Cambridge, and he chose Oxford. But not for long. Obsessed with publishing, he soon left, without a degree, to work for The Saturday Review, at the same time contributing to The Bookman and The Academy. In spite of having no university degree, Gull managed to be employed as a staff member at the Daily Mail, and later at the Daily Express.

Writing was in his blood. While working for London Life, Ranger Gull's first book was published anonymously in 1898 (now commanding a huge price on the used book market, and for serious collectors only). It was titled The Hypocrite, and was a fictional account of life in London and Oxford, using carefully veiled real events he had witnessed. This book unleashed a whole series of novels from 1900 onwards. Until his death in 1923, Gull wrote over 100 novels, using his own name of C Ranger Gull, that of Guy Thorne, and Leonard Cresswell Ingleby for his biography Oscar Wilde: Some Reminiscences.

Ranger Gull's most famous book was, and perhaps still is, When it was Dark, published in 1902, with sales of half a million copies. It concerns a fake inscription discovered in a tomb outside Jerusalem, supposedly by Joseph of Arimathea, claiming that he had taken the body of Jesus from the first tomb, and there was therefore no resurrection. The book was well received by the Christian church. Although there is some criticism that Guy Thorne (the name he used as the author for this book) had little time for non-Anglicans, he is very positive in the book about some chapel members, implying that a believing Christian was a Christian, no matter what their label.

In common with many writers of this period and earlier, Ranger Gull often used foreigners as suspicious characters, and people with physical or mental disabilities were often fair game for being the scary antagonists in popular fiction. Jews were particularly affected, from Dickens onwards. Looking back on European history, we can today see this as being part of an attitude going back centuries that culminated in the holocaust in the late thirties and early forties, and pogroms in Russia and other countries.

On a more positive note, Ranger Gull was keen on aviation, and in The Secret Seaplane published in 1915, early in the First World War, he imagines a huge British seaplane that can set down and take off from both land and water. On water it is also a boat, capable of approaching enemy coastal territory silently after a long flight. Four years later, Gull takes this concept further in The Air Pirate where huge seaplanes are crossing the Atlantic. This quote from the book:

Connie was to leave the sea-drome at eight-thirty in that fine flying-liner Atlantis. She was a Royal Mail ship, and about the fastest and finest flyer in the Transatlantic service, with a carrying capacity of three hundred and fifty passengers, and a thousand tons dead weight of cargo. Her crew numbered forty, and she was commanded by Captain Swainson, one of the most reliable pilot commanders in the air. He was a man I both knew and liked.

The Air Pirate, published in 1919, looks forward to the early thirties, ten years or so after Ranger Gull's death in January 1923. He sometimes refers to these aircraft as airships, which term we now apply to dirigibles and similar craft. In The Air Pirate, a Japanese bodyguard is actually (and unusually) a protagonist!

The City in the Clouds is another example of Ranger Gull's forward thinking, where a wealthy Brazilian builds a city on top of high steel towers in south London. Here it is the Chinese who get some racist references. It would be wrong to pick out Ranger Gull's offensive terms for criticism, as though he alone was guilty. Even if, as some think, political correctness has now gone too far, terms that were standard and acceptable in popular fiction and comics until well into the nineteen-eighties, would not be used today. It was standard fare at the time.

Cornwall features in several stories, and it is obvious Ranger Gull was writing from firsthand experience of its people and scenery. His address at one time was Lelant, in the far west of Cornwall. What seems to be Gull's final book, The Dark Dominion, was published in 1923. When the World Reels, believed by some to be his final book, published in 1924, a year after his death, was serialized at least three years earlier. It can be seen in the Milwaukee Sentinel in 1921, showing just how much international interest there was in Ranger Gull's work.

Two warnings. In common with most writers of popular fiction of the period, political correctness was not an issue. So if you are reading Ranger Gull's books in their original unabridged format, there will be some shocks. Secondly, the name of Guy Thorne as the author is often applied to all Ranger Gull's books. This is important to be bear in mind when searching for his used books on the internet. You will need to use both Gull and Thorne as the author of any particular title.

For readers wanting to know more about C Ranger Gull, aka Guy Thorne, a biography, Guy Thorne: C Ranger Gull: Edwardian Tabloid Novelist and his Unseemly Brotherhood, by David Wilkinson was published in 2012 by Rivendale Press, High Wycombe, and at the time of writing is available directly from the publisher.

NOTE

At the end of this book are advertisements for our other books, so the story may end earlier than expected! The last chapter is marked as such. We aim to make our eBooks free or at a nominal cost, and cannot invest in other forms of advertising. However, word of mouth by satisfied readers will also help get our books more widely known.

Introduction

Guy Thorne (also writing under his real name, C Ranger Gull) was the English author of many adventure stories in the early twentieth century, and this book was not intended specifically for the Christian market. If it had been, there would probably be fewer references to smoking, drinking, and fallen women! It contains adult references in places, but no swearing or offensive language. Although it was written from a high church Anglican viewpoint, the author is positive about the various branches of the Christian faith, finding strengths and weaknesses in individual church and chapel members as their beliefs are threatened by the discovery in Jerusalem

The original is 110,000 words in length, and in many places extremely wordy. I have reduced much of the description that slowed down the action, and cut out some relatively unimportant incidents, making a book in which the story moves forward at a better pace for readers today, who expect a story like this to hit the ground running on the first page. A hundred and more years ago the reader wanted to be launched into a story in a more leisurely way, with much musing and often unnecessary background detail filling the opening pages or chapters.

Although this book is abridged considerably, the original story is unchanged. There are, however, some descriptions of Jews in the original which readers today would find offensive, even if they were acceptable when the book was written. Some people have branded the original as anti-Semitic. I can see no need for any character to be Jewish, as their religion and background never has any bearing on the story. I have therefore removed all Jewish references, apart from of course mentioning Jews living in Jerusalem.

Smoking in all forms was widespread among all classes, and was not generally considered morally wrong or dangerous at the time. This is why many of the references to smoking have been left in the story, as it reflects the Victorian era in which the story is set.

Mary Magdalene is mentioned here as being a reformed prostitute. This is a tradition, and not part of the Gospel accounts. In the New Testament, a prostitute meets Jesus in Luke chapter 7, but there is no clear connection with Mary Magdalene (Mary from Magdala) in Luke chapter 8, where Mary Magdalene is a follower of Jesus, who had cast seven demons cast out of her. However, in this story Basil Gortre sees a reformed, fallen woman as a type of Mary Magdalene which, rightly or wrongly, would have been a common interpretation for many.

The value of money has changed considerably since the end of the nineteenth century by approximately 100 times, so 10,000 pounds is 1,000,000 pounds or 1,500,000 US dollars today. Cabs and omnibuses were pulled by horses when this story takes place, although the occasional early privately owned motorcar might be seen. The book was first published in 1903, but takes place in an unspecified year in the Victorian era which ended in 1901. Turkey was occupying Jerusalem and what was then Palestine, as part of the Ottoman Empire.

The world was already connected by a vast network of undersea cables and overhead telegraph wires, enabling messages to be sent quickly to and from Jerusalem. The world was more connected with early keyboards in Victorian times than many people realise. However, travel between England and Jerusalem had to be done by steamer and horse, taking many days.

Lewis Faber

Editor

2017

Chapter 1

I see Schuabe is going to address a great meeting in the Free Trade Hall on the Education Bill.

That antichrist is here at Mount Prospect? asked Basil in surprise.

The vicar nodded slowly and thoughtfully. He arrived from London yesterday.

The two men looked at each other in silence. Mr. Byars, the vicar, seemed ill at ease. His foot tapped the brass rail of the fender as he put down his pipe which was nearly smoked away.

Basil Gortre's face became dark and gloomy. The light died out of it, the kindliness of expression, which was habitual, left his eyes. We have never really told each other what we think of Schuabe and how we think of him, Vicar, he said. Let's have it out here and now while we're thinking of him and while we have the opportunity.

There was a tense silence for a time, only broken by the dropping of the coals in the grate. The vicar was the first to break it. Let me sum up my personal impression of the man, for and against, he said.

Basil Gortre nodded.

There can be no doubt whatever, said Mr. Byars, that among all the great North country millionaires -- men of power and influence, I mean -- Schuabe stands first and pre-eminent. His wealth is enormous to begin with. Then he is young -- can hardly be forty yet, I should say. He belongs to the new generation. Here in Walktown he stands entirely alone. Then his brilliancy, his tremendous intellectual powers, are equalled by few men in England. His career at Oxford was marvellous. His political life, only just beginning as it is, seems to promise the very highest success. His private life, as far as we know is without excess or vice of any kind. In appearance he is one of the ten most striking-looking men in England. His manners are fascinating.

Basil laughed shortly, a mirthless, bitter laugh. So far, he said, you have drawn a picture which approaches the ideal of what a strong man should be. And I grant you every detail of it. But let me complete it. You will agree with me that mine also is true.

His voice trembled a little. Half unconsciously the young curate's eyes wandered to the crucifix on the writing table. Yes, he said, "Schuabe is all that you say. In a hard, godless, and material age he is an embodiment of it. Today, men have forgotten that this world is but an inn, a stopping place for a few years. Schuabe, of all men living in England today, is the armed enemy of Our Lord. But he is no loud-mouthed atheist, sincere and blatant in his ignorance, no honest searcher after truth. All his great wealth, all his attainments, are forged into one devilish weapon. He is already, and will be in the future, the great enemy of Christianity. His attacks on the faith are something quite different to those of other men. As his skill is greater, so his intention is more evil. He hates Christ, and yet the mass of Christians praise his charities, his efforts for social improvement. They do not know, they cannot see, this man as he is at heart, accursed and, I repeat, antichrist!" Basil's voice dropped, tired by its passion and vehemence. He continued in a lower and more intimate vein.

Do you think I'm a fanatic, Vicar? Am I touched with obsession when I tell you that of late I have thought much on the prophetic indications of the coming of 'the Man of Sin,' the Antichrist in Holy Writ? Can it be, I keep asking myself, as I watch the comet-like brilliance of this man's career, can it be that in my own lifetime and the lifetime of those I love, the veritable enemy of our Saviour is to appear? Is this man the one of whom the Bible prophesies?

You are overwrought, Basil, said the elder man kindly. You have let yourself dwell too much on this man Schuabe and his influences. But I don't condemn you. I have also had my doubts and wonderings. The outside world would laugh at us as they laugh at people who are moved as we are at these things. But God alone knows the outcome of the trend of these antichristian influences, of which, I fear, Schuabe is the head. Opinions as to the nature and personality of Antichrist have been very varied, he continued. "Some of the very early Christian writers say he will be a devil in a phantom body; others that he will be an incarnate demon, true man and true devil, in fearful and diabolic parody of the Incarnation of our Lord. There is a third view also, that he will be merely a desperately wicked man, acting on diabolic inspirations, just as the saints act on Divine inspirations."

Basil Gortre, who was listening with extreme attention, had risen from his seat and stood by the mantelshelf, leaning his elbow on it.

One of the ornaments of the mantel was a head of Christ, printed on china, from Murillo, and held in a large silver frame like a photograph frame.

Just as the vicar had finished speaking there came a sudden knock at the door. It startled Basil Gortre, and he moved suddenly. His elbow slid along the marble of the shelf and dislodged the picture, which fell on the floor and was broken into a hundred pieces, crashing loudly against the fender.

The housemaid, who had knocked, stood for a moment looking with dismay at the breakage. Then she turned to the vicar.

Mr. Schuabe from Mount Prospect to see you, sir, she said. I have shown him into the drawing room.

Chapter 2

The servant had turned on the lights in the drawing room, where a low fire still glowed red upon the hearth, and left Constantine Schuabe alone to await the vicar's arrival.

On either side of the fireplace were heavy hangings of emerald and copper woven stuff, a present to the Vicar's daughter, Helena, from an uncle who had bought them at Benares. Schuabe stood motionless before this background.

The man was tall, and the heavy coat of fur he was wearing increased the impression of size, of massiveness, which was part of his personality. His hair was dark red, smooth and abundant. The eyes were large and black, coldly, terribly aware, with something of the sinister and untroubled regard seen in a reptile's eyes.

The jaw, which dominated the face and completed its remarkable ensemble, was massive, reminding people of steel, covered with olive-coloured parchment. Handsome was hardly the word which fitted him. He was a strikingly handsome man; but that, like distinction, was only one of the qualities which made up his personality. Force, power -- the relentless and conscious power suggested by some great marine engine -- surrounded him in an almost indescribable way. Most people, with the casual view, called him merely resolute, but there were others who thought they saw something evil and monstrous about the man.

The door opened with a quick click of the handle, and the vicar entered, having lingered, hesitant, in the hall, as though nerving himself for this encounter.

Mr. Byars advanced to take the hand of his visitor. Beside the big man he seemed shrunken and a little ineffectual. He was slightly nervous in his manner also, for his curate's impassioned and terror-ridden words still rang in his ears.

The coincidence of the millionaire's arrival was altogether too sudden and bizarre.

When they had made greetings, cordial enough on the surface, and were seated on either side of the fire, Schuabe spoke at once on the object of his visit.

I have come, Mr. Byars, he said, in a singularly clear, vibrant voice, "to discuss certain educational proposals with you. As you probably know, just at present I'm taking a very prominent part in the House of Commons in connection with the whole problem of primary education. Within the last few weeks I have been in active correspondence with your School Board, and you will know all about the scholarships I founded.

"I'm here to propose something of the same sort in connection with your own Church schools. My opinions on religious matters are, of course, not yours. But despite my position I have always recognised that, with whatever means, both the clergy and my own party are broadly working towards one end.

"The mills and other businesses in Walktown provide me with many thousands of pounds a year, and I see it as my duty in some way or another to help the people. My proposal is roughly this: I will found and endow two yearly scholarships for two boys in the national schools. The money will be sufficient, in the first instance, to send them to one of the great Northern grammar schools, and afterwards, always providing the early promise is maintained, to Oxford or Cambridge.

"My only stipulation is this. The tests will be purely and simply intellectual, and have nothing whatever to do with the religious teaching of the schools, with which I am not in sympathy. Nevertheless, it is only fair that a clever boy in a church school should have the same opportunities as in a secular school. I should tell you that I have made the same offer to the Roman Catholic school authorities and it has been declined."

The vicar listened with great attention. The offer was extremely generous, and showed a most open-minded determination to put the donor's personal prejudices out of the question. There could be no doubt as to his answer -- none whatever.

My dear sir, he said, your generosity is very great. I see your point about the examinations. Religion is to form no part of them. But by the time one of our boys submits himself for examination, we would naturally hope that he would already be so firmly fixed in Christian principles that his future career would have no influence on his faith. Holding the opinions that you do, your offer shows a great freedom from any prejudice. I hope I'm broadminded enough to recognise that philanthropy is a fine thing, despite the banner under which the philanthropist may stand. I accept your generous offer in the spirit that it is made. Of course, the scheme must be submitted to the managers of the schools, of whom I am chief, but the matter practically lies with me, and my lead will be followed.

I'm only too glad, said the big man, with a sudden and transforming smile, to help on the cause of knowledge. All the details of the scheme I will send you in a few days, and now I will detain you no longer.

He rose to go.

During their brief conversation, the vicar had been conscious of many emotions. He blamed himself for his narrowness and the somewhat far-fetched lengths to which his recent talk with his curate had gone. This man was an atheist, no doubt. His intellectual attacks on the Christian faith were damaging and subversive. Still, his love for his fellowmen was sincere, it seemed. He attacked the faith, but not the preachers of it. And -- a half thought crossed his mind -- he might have been sent to him for some good purpose. St. Paul had not borne the name of Paul when he had attacked Christians!

These thoughts, only half formulated in his brain, had their immediate effect in concrete action. Won't you take off your coat, Mr. Schuabe, he said, and smoke a cigar with me in my study?

The other hesitated a moment, looked doubtful, and then assented. He hung his coat up in the hall and went into the other room with the vicar.

During the conversation in the drawing room, the vicar's daughter, Helena, had come back from the concert, and Basil, hearing her, had left the study and gone to her own private sanctum for a last few minutes before saying goodnight to her, for they were now engaged.

His fiancée sat in a low chair by the fire. She explained she was a little tired by the concert, where a local pianist had been playing a nocturne of Chopin's as if he wanted to make it into soup. Here, the quiet of her own sitting room, the intimate comfort of it all, and the sense of happiness that Basil's presence gave her, were in delightful contrast.

It was very stupid, Basil, she said. "Mrs. Pryde was rather trying, full of dull gossip about everyone, and the music wasn't good. Mr. Cuthbert played as if he was playing the organ in church. His touch is utterly unfitted for anything except the War March from Athalie with the stops out. He knows nothing of the piano. I was in a front seat, and I could see his knee feeling for the swell all the time. He played the Moonlight Sonata as if he was throwing the moonlight at