by Guy Thorne
CHAPTER XXI
HOW THEY ALL WENT TO THE HOUSE IN REGENT'S PARK
The little door in the wall of Sir William Gouldesbrough's old Georgianhouse stood wide open. Carriages were driving up, and the butler wasconstantly ushering visitors into the vast sombre hall, while a footmankept escorting this or that arrival up the gravel path among the laurelbushes.
It was afternoon, a dull and livid afternoon. Clouds had come down toonear to London, and thunder lurked behind them. Never at any time acheerful place, the old walled house of the scientist to-day wore itsmost depressing aspect.
The well-known people, who were invited to the demonstration of astupendous and revolutionary discovery, looked with ill-concealedcuriosity at the house, the garden, and the gloomy dignity of the hall.
There has always been a great deal of surmise and curiosity about SirWilliam's home and private life. That so distinguished a man was abachelor was in itself an anomaly; and, though Gouldesbrough wentcontinually into society, when he himself entertained it was generallyat restaurants, except in very rare instances. So the world of Londonhad come to regard the house in Regent's Park as a sort of wizard'scave, a secret and mysterious place where the modern magician evolvedwonders which were to change the whole course of modern life.
About forty people had been invited to the demonstration.
Lord Malvin was there, of course. He came in company with Donald Megbieand Sir Harold Oliver.
All three men seemed singularly grave and preoccupied, and, as the otherguests noted the strange, and even stern, expression upon Lord Malvin'sface, they whispered that the leader of the scientific world felt thaton this day he was to be deposed and must resign his captaincy for ever.
But in this case, as it generally is, gossip was at fault. Nobody knewof the strange conference which had been held by Donald Megbie with LordMalvin and Sir Harold Oliver. Nobody knew how Miss Marjorie Poole haddriven up to Lord Malvin's house in Portland Place one afternoon withDonald Megbie. Nobody would have believed, even if they had been told,how the two grave scientists (who realized that, however many truths arediscovered, there still lie hidden forces which we shall neverunderstand this side of the Veil) had listened to the extraordinarystory the journalist and the society girl had to tell.
Therefore, on this important afternoon, though Lord Malvin's seriousnesswas commented upon, it was entirely misunderstood.
Various other scientists from France, Germany and America were present.Donald Megbie, the editor of the _Eastminster Gazette_, and a famousnovelist represented the press and the literary world.
The Bishop of West London, frail, alert, his grey eyes filled witheagerness, was one of the guests. Dean Weare came with him, and thepolitical world had sent three ambassadors in the persons of Mr. Decies,the Home Secretary, Sir James Clouston and Sir William Ellrington. Therewas an academician who looked like a jockey, and a judge who looked likea trainer. The rest of the guests were all well-known people, who, ifthey were not particularly interested in science, were yet just thepeople who could not be ignored on an important occasion. That is tosay, they belonged to that little coterie of men and women in Londonwho have no other _metier_ than to be present at functions of extremeimportance! For no particular reason they have become fixtures, andtheir personalities are entirely merged in the unearned celebrity oftheir name and the apparent necessity for their presence.
The men in their black frock coats passed over the great galleried halllike ghosts, and the white furs of the ladies, and the grey plumes andfeathers of their hats, did little to relieve the general note ofsadness, or to bring any colour into Sir William Gouldesbrough's house.Among the last arrivals of all were Lady Poole and her daughter.
The guests had congregated in the hall where servants were handing abouttea, and where two great fires warmed the air indeed, but could notdestroy the sense of mental chill.
Sir William had not yet made his appearance, and it was understood thatwhen the party was complete the butler was to lead them straight to thelaboratories. The fact marked the seriousness of the occasion.
This was no social party, no scientific picnic, at which one went to seethings which would interest and amuse, and to chatter, just as onechatters at an exhibition of water-colours in Pall Mall. Everybody feltthis, everybody knew it, and everybody experienced a sense of awe andgravity as befitted people who were about to witness something whichwould mark an epoch in the history of the world and change the wholecourse of human life.
As Marjorie Poole came into the hall with her mother, every one saw thatshe looked ill. Her face was pale, there were dark rings under her eyes;and, as she stepped over the threshold of the door, one or two peoplenoticed that she shivered. It was remarked also, that directly the twoladies entered, Lord Malvin, Sir Harold Oliver, and Mr. Megbie went upto them in a marked manner, and seemed to constitute themselves as asort of bodyguard for the rest of the stay in the hall.
"She does not look much like a girl who is engaged to the mostsuccessful man of the day, does she?" Mrs. Hoskin-Heath said to LordLandsend.
"No, you are right," Lord Landsend whispered. "She is afraid SirWilliam's machine won't work, and that the whole thing won't come off,don't you know. And, for my part, though I don't profess to understandexactly what Sir William is going to show us, I bet a fiver that it isnot more wonderful than things I have seen scores of times at Maskelyneand Cook's. Wonderful place that, Mrs. Hoskin-Heath. I often go there ona dull afternoon; it makes one's flesh creep, 'pon my word it does. Ihave been there about fifty times, and I have never yet felt safe fromthe disappearing egg."
The butler was seen to come up to Lord Malvin and ask him a question.The peer looked round, and seemed to see that every one was prepared tomove. He nodded to the man, who crossed the hall, bowed, and opened adoor to the right of the great central staircase.
"My master tells me to say, my lord," he said, addressing Lord Malvin,but including the whole of the company in his gaze--"my master tells meto say that he will be very much obliged if you will come into thelaboratory."
A footman went up to the door and held it open, while the butler, with abackward look, disappeared into the passage, and led the way towards thereal scene of the afternoon's events.
As that throng of famous people walked down the long corridor, which ledpast the study door, not a single one of them knew or could surmise thatall and severally they were about to experience the emotion of theirlives.