The Grey Room

by Eden Phillpotts

  CHAPTER IX. THE NIGHT WATCH

  Though a room had been prepared for Dr. Mannering, he did not occupy itlong. The early hours of night found him in a bad temper, and sufferingfrom considerable exacerbation of nerves. He troubled little forhimself, and still less concerning the police, for he was human, andtheir indifference to his advice annoyed him; but for Sir Walter he wasperturbed, and did not like the arrangements that he had planned. Thedoctor, however, designed to go and come and keep an eye upon the oldman, and he hoped that the master of Chadlands would presently sleep, ifonly in his study chair. For himself he suffered a somewhat unpleasantexperience toward midnight, but had himself to thank for it. He restedfor an hour in his bedroom, then went downstairs, to find Mary and herfather sitting quietly together in the great library. They were bothreading, while at the farther end, where a risen moon already frostedthe lofty windows above him, lay Septimus May in his coffin. Maryhad plucked a wealth of white hothouse flowers, which stood in an oldVenetian bowl at his feet.

  Sir Walter was solicitous for the doctor.

  "Not in bed!" he exclaimed. "This is too bad, Mannering. We shall haveyou ill next. You have been on your feet for countless hours and muchlies before you to-morrow. Do be sensible, my dear fellow, and take somerest--even if you cannot sleep."

  "There is no sleep to-night for me. Lord knows how soon I may be wantedby those fools playing with fire upstairs."

  "We cannot interfere. For myself a great peace has descended upon me,now that initiative and the need for controlling and directing is takenout of my hands. I began to feel this when poor Hardcastle arrived; butthat composure was sadly shattered. I am even prepared for the needfulpublicity now. I can face it. If I erred in the matter of this devotedpriest, I shall not question the judgment of my fellow-men upon me."

  "Fear nothing of that sort," answered Mannering. "Your fellow-man has noright to judge you, and the law, with all its faults, appreciates logic.Who can question your right to believe that this is a matter outsidehuman knowledge? Your wisdom may be questioned, but not your right.Plenty would have felt the same. When the mind of man finds itselfgroping in the dark, you will see that, in the huge majority of cases,it falls back upon supernatural explanations for mystery. This fact hasmade fortunes for not a few who profit by the credulity of human nature.Faiths are founded on it. May carried too many guns for you. He honestlyconvinced you that his theory of his son's death was the correct theory;and I, for one, though I deplore the fact that you came to see with hiseyes, and permitted him to do what he believed was his duty, yet shouldbe the last to think your action open to judicial blame. No Christianjudge, at any rate, would have the least right to question you. In aword, there is no case yet against anybody. The force responsible forthese things is utterly unknown, and if ill betides the men upstairs,that is only another argument for you."

  Sir Walter put down his book--a volume of pious meditations. Events haddrawn him into a receptive attitude toward religion. He was surprised atDr. Mannering.

  "I never thought to hear you admit as much as that. How strangely thecurrents of the mind ebb and flow, Mannering. Here are you with yourscepticism apparently weakening, while I feel thankfully assured, atany rate for the moment, that only a material reason accounts for thesedisasters."

  "Why?" asked the physician.

  "Because against the powers of any dark spirit Septimus May was safe.Even had he been right and his prayer had freed such a being and castit out of my house, would the Almighty have permitted it to rend anddestroy the agent of its liberation? May could not have suffered deathby any conscious, supernatural means if our faith is true; but, as hehimself said, when he came here after the death of his boy, he did notpretend that faith in God rendered a human being superior to the laws ofmatter. If, as was suggested at dinner to-day, there is somebody inthis house with a mind unhinged who has discovered a secret of natureby which human life can be destroyed and leave no sign, then this deadclergyman was, of course, as powerless against such a hideous danger asany other human being."

  "But surely such a theory is quite as wild as any based on supernaturalassumptions? You know the occupants of this house--every one of them,Sir Walter. Mary knows them, Henry knows them. I have attended most ofthem at one time or another. Is there one against whom such a suspicioncan be entertained?"

  "Not one indeed."

  "Could the war have made a difference?" asked Mary. "We know how shellshock and wounds to a poor man's head had often left him apparentlysound, yet in reality weakened as to his mind."

  "Yes, that is true enough. And when the unfortunate men get back intoeveryday life from the hospitals, or endeavor to resume their old work,the weakness appears. I have seen cases. But of all the men in Chadlandsthere are only three examples of any such catastrophe. I know a few inthe village--none where one can speak of actual insanity, however. Herethere is only Fred Caunter, who was hurt about the head on board ship,but the injury left no defect."

  "Fred is certainly as sane as I am--perhaps saner," admitted Sir Walter.

  "Don't think I really imagine there is anything of the kind here," addedMannering. "But if these four men are in a condition to proceedwith their work to-morrow, you must expect them to make a searchingexamination of everybody in the house. And they may find a good numberof nervous and hysterical women, if not men. It is not their province,however, to determine whether people are weak in the head, and Iknow, as well as you do, that none in this house had any hand in thesedisasters."

  "Never was a family with fewer secrets than mine," declared Sir Walter.

  "The morning may bring light," said Mary.

  "I feel very little hope that it will," answered Mannering. "The inquirywill proceed, whatever happens to-night, and we may all have to go toLondon to attend it. After they have turned Chadlands and everybodyin it upside down, as they surely will, then we may be called, if theyarrive at no conclusion."

  "I am prepared to be. I shall not leave the country, of course, until Ireceive permission to do so. It must be apparent to everybody that I am,of all men, if not the most involved, at least the most anxious to clearthis mystery--that nobody can doubt."

  "Then you must conserve your strength and be guided," said Mannering."I do beg of you to retire now, and insist upon Mary doing the same.Nothing can be gained by the dead, and necessary energy is lost to theliving by this irrational vigil. It is far past midnight; I beg you toretire, Sir Walter, and Mary, too. There is nothing that should keep youout of bed, and I urge you to go to it."

  But the elder refused.

  "Few will sleep under this roof to-night," he said. "There is a spiritof human anxiety and distress apparent, and naturally so. I will stayhere with this good man. He is better company than many of the living. Ifeel a great peace here. The dead sustains me."

  He joined Mannering, however, in an appeal to his daughter, and,satisfied that their friend would not be far off at any time, Marypresently left them. She declared herself as not anxious or nervous. Shehad never believed that anything but natural causes were responsible forher husband's death, and felt an assurance that morning would bringsome measure, at least, of explanation. She went out of the room withMannering, and, promising her to keep a close watch on her father, thedoctor left Mary, lighted his pipe, and strolled to the billiard-room.Presently he patrolled the hall and pursued his own reflections. Wherehis thoughts bent, there his body unconsciously turned, and, forgettingthe injunction of the silent men aloft--indeed, forgetting them also fora moment--Mannering ascended the stairs and proceeded along the corridortoward the Grey Room. But he did not get far. Out of the darkness afigure rose and stopped him. The man turned an electric torch on Dr.Mannering, and recognized him. It appeared that while one detective keptguard outside, the others watched within. At the sound of voices thedoor of the Grey Room opened, and in the bright light that streamed fromit a weird figure stood--a tall, black object with huge and flashingeyes and what looked like an elephant's trunk descending from betweenthem. Th
e watchers, wearing hoods and gas masks, resembled the fantasticdemons of a Salvator Rosa, or Fuselli. Their chief now accosted thedoctor somewhat sharply. He knew his name and received his apology,but bade him leave the corridor at once. "I must, however, search youfirst," said Frith. "You were wrong to come," he continued. "This is notime to distract us. Explain to-morrow, please."

  The doctor, after holding up his hands and submitting to a very closescrutiny, departed and swore at his own inadvertence. He had forgottenthat, in common with everybody else involved, he must bear the brunt ofsuspicion, and he perceived that his approach to the Grey Room, after itwas clearly understood that none should on any account attempt to doso, must attract unpleasant attention to himself. And he could offer nobetter excuse than that he had forgotten the order. He apprehended anunpleasantness on the following day, and wondered at himself that hecould have done anything so open to question. Brain fag was a poorexcuse, but he had none better.

  In an hour he returned to Sir Walter, hoping to find him asleep; but themaster of Chadlands was still reading, and in a frame of mind very quietand peaceful. He regretted the forgetfulness that had taken his friendinto the forbidden gallery.

  "I am concerned for Mary," he said. "She is only keeping up at aterrible cost of nervous power. It is more than time that she was away;but she will not go until I am able to accompany her."

  "It should not be long. We must hope they will get to the bottom of itsoon, if not to-night. I am most anxious for both of you to be off."

  "We design to go to Italy. She shrinks from the Riviera and longs forFlorence, or some such peaceful place."

  "It will be cold there."

  "Cold won't hurt us."

  "Shall you shut up Chadlands?"

  "Impossible. It is the only home of half my elder people. But, ifnothing is discovered and we are still left without an explanation,I shall seal the Grey Room--windows, door, and hearth--unless theauthorities direct otherwise. I wish I could fill the place with solidstone or concrete, so that it would cease to be a room at all."

  "That you can't do," answered the practical doctor. "Such a weight wouldbring down the ceiling beneath. But you can make it fast and block it upif the thing beats them."

  "We are like the blind moving in regions unfamiliar to their touch,"said Sir Walter. "I had hoped so much from the prayer of that just man.He, indeed, has gone to his reward. He is with the boy he loved betterthan anything on earth; but for us is left great sorrow and distress.Still, prayers continue to be answered, Mannering. I have prayed forpatience, and I find myself patient. The iron has entered my soul. Thehorror of publicity--the morbid agony I experienced when I knew my namemust be dragged through every newspaper in England--these pangs arepast. My life seems to have ended in one sense, and, looking back, Icannot fail to see how little I grasped the realities of existence, howI took my easy days as a matter of course and never imagined that forme, too, extreme suffering and misery were lying in wait. Each man's ownburden seems the hardest to bear, I imagine, and to me these events haveshrivelled the very marrow in my bones. They scorched me, and the glare,thrown from the larger world into the privacy of my life, made me feelthat I could call on the hills to cover me. But now I can endure all."

  "You must not look at it so, Sir Walter. Everybody knows that you havedone no wrong, and if your judgment is questioned, what is it? Only thefate every man--great or small, famous or insignificant--has to bear.You can't escape criticism in this world, any more than you can escapecalumny. It is something that you can now speak so steadfastly, preservesuch patience, and see so clearly, too. But, for my part, clear seeingonly increases my anxiety to-night. I don't personally care a button forthe welfare of those men, since they declined to take my advice; butI am human, and as I suffer with a sick patient and rejoice when herecovers, so I cannot help suffering at the thought of the risk thesefour are running. They sit there, I suppose, or else walk about. Theywear gas masks, and carry weapons in their hands. But if we are opposedto a blind, deaf, unreasoning force, which acts unconsciously andinevitably, then the fate of ten men would be just as uncertain as thefate of one. The thing operates by day or night--that much has beenproved--and, since it is probably acting automatically, as lightning orsteam, how can they escape?"

  "This invisible death-dealing force may be in the control of a humanmind, remember."

  "It is beyond the bounds of possibility, Sir Walter."

  "You are a rash man to affirm anything so definite, after what you havegone through with the rest of us. Let me, in my turn, urge you to goto your rest. These things have told upon you. You are only flesh andblood, not iron, as you fancy. The men are all right so far."

  "I'll get something to eat and drink," said Mannering, "and leave you inpeace for a while."

  "Do. You will find all you need in the dining-room. I directed Mastersto leave ample there, in case the detectives might want food."

  "Shall I bring you something--a whisky, and a biscuit?"

  "No, no. I need nothing."

  The doctor went his way, and passed an hour with meat and drink. Then hefelt an overpowering desire to sleep, but resisted it, lighted his pipeagain, and, resumed his march in the hall. He listened presently at thelibrary door, and was gratified to hear a gentle but steady snore. Thesound pleased Mannering well.

  He padded about once more, resolved to keep awake until the vigil wasended. Then he would go to bed and sleep. It was now past three o'clockon a still, winter night--a lull and interval between yesterday's stormand rough weather yet to come. The doctor went out of doors for a timeand tramped the terrace. A waning moon had risen, and the night was mildand cloudy.

  Bright light shot out like fans into the murk from the east and southwindows of the Grey Room. Returning to the house, the watcher listenedat the foot of the staircase, and heard the mumble of men's voices andthe sound of feet. They were changing the guard, and the detective inthe corridor gave up his place to one from inside. All was well so far.

  Then Mannering went to the billiard-room, lolled on the settee fora time, and drowsed through another hour. For a few minutes he lostconsciousness, started up to blame his weakness, and looked at hiswatch. But he had only slumbered for five minutes.

  At six o'clock he told himself that it was morning, and went in again toSir Walter. The old man had wakened, and was sitting in quiet reflectionuntil daylight should outline the great window above the dead.

  "The night has been one of peace," he declared. "The spirit of poor Mayseemed near me, and I felt, too, as though his son were not far off,either. Is all well with the watchers?"

  "I leave you to inquire, but don't go too near them. Night fades overthe woods, so the day can be said to have begun."

  "Doubtless the household will be stirring. I shall go and inquire, ifthey will permit me to do so. Oblige me by staying here a few minutesuntil I call my daughter. I do not want our poor friend to be aloneuntil he leaves us."

  "I will stay here for the present. But don't let Mary be called if sheis sleeping, and turn in yourself for a few hours now."

  "I have slept off and on."

  Sir Walter left him and ascended to the corridor. Already light movedwanly in the windows.

  He stood at the top of the staircase and raised his voice.

  "Is all well, gentlemen?" he asked loudly; but he received no answer.

  "Is all well?" he cried again.

  And then from the gloom emerged Inspector Frith. He had doffed his gasmask.

  Sir Walter switched on an electric light.

  "Nothing, I trust, has happened?"

  "Nothing whatever, Sir Walter. No sign or sound of anything out of thecommon can be recorded."

  "Thank Heaven--thank Heaven for that!"

  "Though we had exhausted the possibilities of such a thing, we nonethe less expected gas," explained the detective. "That seemed theonly conceivable means by which life might be destroyed in that room.Therefore we wore gas masks of the latest pattern, supposed to defy anygaseous co
mbination ever turned out of a laboratory. It is well knownthat new, destructive gases were discovered just before the end of thewar--gases said to be infinitely more speedy and deadly than any thatwere employed. As to that, and whether the Government has the secretof them, I cannot say. But no gas was liberated in the Grey Room lastnight. Otherwise a rat in a trap and birds in a cage, which we kept byus, would have felt it. The room is pure enough."

  Sir Walter followed him down the corridor, and chatted with the othermen also. They had left the Grey Room and taken off their masks; theylooked weary and haggard in the waxing, white light of day.

  "You've done your duty, and I am beyond measure thankful that no evilhas overtaken you. What can now be prepared for you in the way of food?"

  They thanked him, and declared that in an hour they would be glad ofbreakfast. Then Sir Walter went to his own apartments, rang, and gavethe needful directions. He joined Mary soon afterwards, and she sharedhis thanksgivings. She was already dressed, and descended immediately toDr. Mannering.

  Henry Lennox also appeared soon afterwards. He had already learned fromFred Caunter that the watchers were safely through the night.

  Chadlands was the scene of another inquest, and again a coroner's jurydeclared that Septimus May, as his son before him, had died by the Handof God. Later in the day the dead man was conveyed to his own parish,and two days later Sir Walter and Mary, with her cousin, attended thefuneral.

  Meantime, the detectives began their serious work. They proceeded withsystem and upon their own plan. They omitted to question not the leastof the persons who dwelt at Chadlands, and inquired also privatelyconcerning every member of the house party there assembled when TomMay died. Into the sailor's private life they also searched, and sogradually investigated every possible line of action and point ofapproach to his death. The cause of this they were content to disregard,arguing that if an assassin could be traced, his means of murder wouldthen be learned; but, from the first, no sort of light illumined theiractivities, and nothing to be regarded as a clue could be discovered,either in Tom May's relations with the world, or in the history andcharacter of anyone among the many who were subject for inquiry.

  Concerning the house party, only Ernest Travers and his wife had met thesailor before, on the occasion of his wedding; while as to the staff atChadlands, nothing transpired to indicate that any had ever had occasionto feel affronted by an act of his. They were, moreover, loyal to a manand woman. They furnished no peculiarities, and gave no ground for theleast suspicion. The case, in Frith's opinion, was unique, because,despite the number of persons it was necessary to study and consider, innone of their relations with the family involved could there be found ashadow of unfriendly intercourse, a harbored grudge, or a suggestion ofill-feeling. The people were all simple and ingenuous. They declared anddisplayed nothing but regard for their employer, and many of them hadsucceeded their own parents in their present employment. It was a largehousehold, very closely united by ties of tradition and affection. HenryLennox also proved above suspicion, though his former attachment to Marywas not concealed. It needed no great student of character, however,to appreciate his transparent honesty under examination, a remark thatextended to Dr. Mannering, whose incautious advent in the corridor onthe night of their vigil had offended the watchers.

  For three weeks they worked industriously--without vision, but tothe best of their experience and intellectual powers. In the familiarphrase, they left no stone unturned; and following their report, whichfrankly admitted absolute failure, a small commission instituted afurther inquiry on the evidence, and invited those chiefly concerned toattend it.

  Sir Walter, his daughter, Henry Lennox, and Dr. Mannering were examinedwith sympathy and consideration. But they could offer no opinions,throw no light, and suggest no other lines of inquiry than those alreadypursued.

  For the world the mystery died like a new star, which was blazed intofame only to retreat or diminish and disappear once more. Fresh problemsand new sensations filled the newspapers, and a time at last came when,to his relief, Sir Walter could open his morning journal and find nomention of Chadlands therein. Architects examined the room a secondtime, and the authorities also gave permission to certain notablespiritualists to make further nocturnal and diurnal vigils therein,though no solitary watcher was permitted. Three came and passed a dayand a night in the Grey Room. They were rewarded with no phenomenawhatever.

  The master of Chadlands was at length informed that he might leaveEngland, but directed to set a seal on the Grey Room, and to treat it insuch a manner that it should no longer be capable of entrance.

  The red tape that had wound itself about the tragedy was thus unloosedat last, and the suffering pair made all haste to get away. Its ownerundertook to treat the Grey Room as directed on his return from abroad,and meanwhile had both door and window boarded up with heavy timbers.

  The household was long since restored to self-possession and evencheerfulness. Some felt pride in their passing publicity, and noneexpressed any fear of remaining. But Sir Walter guessed that few feetwould tread the great corridor until a day was near for his return.