CHAPTER IV. "BY THE HAND OF GOD"
Sir Walter always remembered that Sunday luncheon and declared thatit reminded him of a very painful experience in his early life. Whenbig-game shooting in South Africa, he had once been tossed by a woundedbuffalo bull. By good chance the creature threw him into a gully somefeet lower than the surrounding bush. Thus it lost him, and he was safefrom destruction. There, however, he remained with a broken leg forsome hours until rescued; and during that time the mosquitoes caused himunspeakable torments.
To-day the terrible disaster of the morning became temporarilyovershadowed by the necessity of enduring his friends' comments upon it.The worst phase of the ordeal was their pity. Sir Walter had never beenpitied in his life, and detested the experience. This stream of sympathyand the chastened voices much oppressed him. He was angry with himselfalso, for a guilty conviction that, in truth, the interest of thevisitors exceeded their grief. He felt it base to suspect them of anysuch thing; but the buzz of their polite expressions, combined withtheir cautious questions and evident thirst for knowledge, caused himexquisite uneasiness.
They all wanted to know everything he could tell them concerning TomMay. Had he enemies? Was it conceivable that he might have even bitterand unscrupulous enemies?
"Dear Mary is keeping up splendidly," said Mrs. Travers. "She ismagnificent. Thank Heaven I have been some little help to her."
"You have, Nelly, without a doubt."
"Do try to eat more, Walter," urged Ernest Travers. "Much lies beforeyou. Indeed, the worst has yet to come. You must keep up for all oursakes. How thankfully I would share your load if I could!"
"I hope you are going to make this an official matter, Sir Walter,and communicate with the Society for Psychical Research," urged FelixFayre-Michell. "It is just a case for them. In fact, when this getsknown widely, as it must, of course, a great many skilled inquirers willwish to visit Chadlands and spend a night in the room."
"The police will have to be considered first," declared Colonel Vane."This is, of course, a police affair. I should think they will soregard it. There is the Service, too. The Admiralty will be sure to dosomething."
"Is he to be buried at Chadlands? I suppose so, poor fellow," murmuredErnest Travers. "I think your family graves so distinguished, Walter--sosimple and fine and modest--just perfectly kept, grassy mounds, andsimple inscriptions. I was looking at them after service to-day. Thevicar made a very tactful allusion to the great grief that had overtakenthe lord of the manor at the end of his sermon."
Henry assisted his uncle to the best of his power. It was he who wentinto the question of the Sunday service from the neighboring markettown, and proved, to the relief of Colonel Vane and Mr. Miles Handford,that they might leave in comfort before nightfall and catch a train toLondon.
"A car is going in later, to meet poor Tom's father," he said, "and ifit's any convenience, it would take you both."
The pair thankfully agreed.
Then Colonel Vane interested Sir Walter in spite of himself. The latterhad spoken of an inquiry, and Vane urged a distinguished name upon him.
"Do get Peter Hardcastle if you can," he said. "He's absolutely top holeat this sort of thing at present--an amazing beggar."
"I seem to have heard the name."
"Who hasn't? It was he who got to the bottom of that weird murder inYorkshire."
"It was weird," said Handford. "I knew intimate friends of the murderedman."
"A crime for which no logical reason existed," continued the colonel."It puzzled everybody, till Hardcastle succeeded where his superiorofficers at Scotland Yard had failed. I believe he's still young. Butthat was less amazing than the German spy--you remember now, Sir Walter?The spy had been too clever for England and France--thanks to a womanwho helped him. Peter Hardcastle got to know her; then heactually disguised himself as the woman--of course without herknowledge--arrested her, and kept an appointment that she had made withthe spy. What was the spy called? I forget."
"Wundt," said Felix Fayre-Michell.
"No, I don't think so. Hardt or Hardfelt, or something like that."
"Anyway, a jolly wonderful thing. He's the first man at this business,and I hope you'll be able to secure him."
"If he comes, Sir Walter, don't let it be known that he is here. Keep ita secret. If Hardcastle could come down as your guest, and nobody knowhe was here, it might help him to succeed."
"And if he fails, then I hope you'll invite the Psychical ResearchSociety."
Sir Walter let the chatter flow past him; but he concentrated on thename of Peter Hardcastle. He remembered the story of the spy, and thesensation it had aroused.
Millicent Fayre-Michell also remembered it.
"Mr. Hardcastle declined to let his photograph be published inthe halfpenny papers, I remember," she said. "That struck me as sowonderful. There was a reason given--that he did not wish the public toknow him by sight. I believe he is never seen as himself, and that hemakes up just as easily to look like a woman as a man."
"Some people believe he is a woman."
"No! You don't say that?"
"To have made up as that German's friend and so actually reached hispresence--nay, secured him! It is certainly one of the most remarkablepages in the annals of crime," said Ernest Travers.
"Is he attached to Scotland Yard still, or does he work independently?"asked Miles Handford.
"I don't know yet. Mannering has already urged me to consult ScotlandYard at once. Indeed, he was going to approach them to-day. Mr.Hardcastle shall certainly be invited to do what he can. I shall leaveno stone unturned to reach the truth. Yet what even such a man can do isdifficult to see. The walls of the Grey Room are solid, the floor isof sound oak, the ceiling is nine or ten inches thick, and supported byimmense beams. The hearth is modern, and the chimney not large enough toadmit a human being. This was proved twelve years ago."
"Give him a free hand all the same--with servants and everybody. Ishould ask him to come as your guest, then nobody need know who he is,and he can pursue his investigations the more freely."
Felix Fayre-Michell made this suggestion after luncheon was ended, andMasters and Fred Caunter had left the room. Then the conversation showedsigns of drifting back to sentimentality. Sir Walter saw it coming intheir eyes, and sought to head them off by inquiring concerning theirown movements.
"Can I be of any service to simplify your plans? I fear this terribleevent has put you all to great inconvenience."
"Our inconvenience is nothing beside your sorrow, dear Walter," saidNelly Travers.
All declared that if they could serve the cause in any way they wouldgladly stop at Chadlands, but since they were powerless to assist, theyfelt that the sooner they departed the better.
"We go, but we leave our undying sympathy and commiseration, dearfriend," declared Mr. Travers. "Believe me, this has aged my wife andmyself. Probably it would not be an exaggeration to say it has aged usall. That he should have come through Jutland, done worthy deeds, wonhonorable mention and the D. S. O., then to be snatched out of life inthis incomprehensible manner--nay, perhaps even by supernatural means,for we cannot yet actually declare it is not so. All this makes itimpossible to say much that can comfort you or dear Mary. Time must passI fear, Walter. You must get her away into another environment. ThankHeaven she has youth on her side."
"Yes, yes, I shall live for her, be sure of that." He left them andpresently spoke to his nephew alone in his study.
"Do what you can for them. Handford and Vane are getting off thisafternoon, the rest early to-morrow. I don't think I shall be able todine with them to-night. Tom's father will be here. I fear he is likelyto be prostrated when he knows that all is over."
"No, he's not that kind of man, uncle. Mary tells me he will want to getto the bottom of this in his own way. He's one of the fighting sort,but he believes in a lot of queer things. I'm going in to Newton withColonel Vane, and shall meet Mannering there about--about Sir HowardFellowes. He'll come down to-morr
ow, no doubt, perhaps to-night.Mannering will know."
"And tell Mannering to insist on a detective called Peter Hardcastle forthe inquiry. If he's left Scotland Yard and acting independently, nonethe less engage him. I shall, of course, thankfully pay anything to getthis tragedy explained."
"Be sure they will explain it."
"If they do not I shall be tempted to leave altogether. Indeed, I may doso in any case. Mary will never reconcile herself to live here now."
"Don't bother about the future, don't think about it. Consider yourself,and take a little rest this afternoon. Everybody is very concerned foryou, they mean to be awfully decent in their way; but I know how theytry you. They can't help it. Such a thing takes them out of theirdaily round, and beggars their experience, and makes them excited andtactless. There's no precedent for them, and you know how most peopledepend on precedent and how they're bowled over before anything new."
"I will go to Mary, I think. Has the undertaker been?"
"Yes, uncle."
"I want him to be buried with us here. I should not suppose his fatherwill object."
"Not likely. Mary would wish it so."
"It was so typical of Mary to think of Septimus May before everybody.She put her own feelings from her that she might soften the blow forhim."
"She would."
"Are you equal to telling the clergyman at the station that his son isdead, or can't you trust yourself to do it?"
"I expect he'll know it well enough, but I'll tell him everythingthere is to tell. I remember long ago, after the wedding, that he wasinterested in haunted rooms, and said he believed in such things onScriptural grounds."
Sir Walter took pause at this statement.
"That is news to me. Supposing he--However, we need not troubleourselves with him yet. He will, of course, be as deeply concerned toget to the bottom of this as I am, though we must not interfere, or makethe inquiry harder for Hardcastle than he is bound to find it."
"Certainly nobody must interfere. I only hope we can get PeterHardcastle."
"Tell them to call me when Mr. May arrives, and not sooner. I'll seeMary, then lie down for an hour or two."
"You feel all right? Should you care to see Mannering?"
"I am right enough. Say 'Good-bye' to Vane and Miles Handford forme. They may have to return here presently. One can't tell who may bewanted, and who may not be. I don't know--these things are outside myexperience; but they had better both leave you their directions."
"I'll ask them."
Sir Walter visited his daughter, and changed his mind about sleeping.She was passing through an hour of unspeakable horror. The dark templeof realization had opened for her and she was treading its drearyaisles. Henceforth for long days--she told herself for ever--sorrow andsense of unutterable loss must be her companions and share her wakinghours.
They stopped together alone till the dusk came down and Manneringreturned. He stayed but a few minutes, and presently they heard his carstart again, while that containing the departing guests and Henry Lennoximmediately followed it.
In due course Septimus May returned to Chadlands with him. The clergymanhad heard of his son's end, and went immediately to see the deadman. There Mary joined him, and witnessed his self-control under veryshattering grief. He was thin, clean-shaven--a grey man with smoulderingeyes and an expression of endurance. A fanatic in faith, by virtue ofcertain asperities of mind and a critical temperament, he had never madefriends, won his parish into close ties, nor advanced the cause of hisreligion as he had yearned to do. With the zeal of a reformer, he hadentered the ministry in youth; but while commanding respect for his ownrule of conduct and the example he set his little flock, their affectionhe never won. The people feared him, and dreaded his stern criticism.Once certain spirits, smarting under pulpit censure, had sought tobe rid of him; but no grounds existed on which they could eject thereverend gentleman or challenge his status. He remained, therefore, asmany like him remain, embedded in his parish and unknown beyond it.He was a poor student of human nature and life had dimmed his oldambitions, soured his hopes; but it had not clouded his faith. With apassionate fervor he believed all that he tried to teach, and held thatan almighty, all loving and all merciful God controlled every destiny,ordered existence for the greatest and least, and allowed nothingto happen upon earth that was not the best that could happen for theimmortal beings He had created in His own image. Upon this assurancefell the greatest, almost the only, blow that life could deal SeptimusMay. He was stricken suddenly, fearfully with his unutterable loss; buthis agony turned into prayer while he knelt beside his son. He prayedwith a fiery intensity and a resonant vibration of voice that scorchedrather than comforted the woman who knelt beside him. The fervor of theman's emotion and the depth of his conviction, running like a torrentthrough the narrow channels of his understanding, were destinedpresently to complicate a situation sufficiently painful withoutintervention; for a time swiftly came when Septimus May forced hisbeliefs upon Chadlands and opposed them to the opinions of other peopleas deeply concerned as himself to explain the death of his son.
Mr. May, learning that most of the house party could not depart untilthe following morning, absented himself from dinner; indeed, he spenthis time almost entirely with his boy, and when night came kept vigilbeside him. Something of the strange possession of his mind alreadyappeared, in curious hints that puzzled Sir Walter; but it was not untilafter the post-mortem examination and inquest that his extraordinaryviews were elaborated.
Millicent Fayre-Michell and her uncle were the first to depart on thefollowing day. The girl harbored a grievance.
"Surely Mary might have seen me a moment to say 'Good-bye,'" shesaid. "It's a very dreadful thing, but we've been so sympathetic andunderstanding about it that I think they ought to feel rather grateful.They might realize how trying it is for us, too. And to let me gowithout even seeing her--she saw Mrs. Travers over and over again."
"Do not mind. Grief makes people selfish," declared Felix. "Probably weshould not have acted so. I think we should have hidden our sufferingsand faced our duty; but perhaps we are exceptional. I dare say Mrs. Maywill write and express regret and gratitude later. We must allow for heryouth and sorrow."
Mr. Fayre-Michell rather prided himself on the charity of thisconclusion.
When Mr. and Mrs. Travers departed, Sir Walter bade them farewell.The lady wept, and her tears fell on his hand as he held it. She washysterical.
"For Heaven's sake don't let Mary be haunted by that dreadful priest,"she said. "There is something terrible about him. He has no bowelsof compassion. I tried to console him for the loss of his son, and heturned upon me as if I were weak-minded."
"I had to tell him he was being rude and forgetting that he spoke to alady," said Ernest Travers. "One makes every allowance for a father'ssufferings; but they should not take the form of abrupt and harsh speechto a sympathetic fellow-creature--nay, to anyone, let alone a woman. Hissacred calling ought to--"
"A man's profession cannot alter his manners, my dear Ernest; they comefrom defects of temperament, no doubt. May must not be judged. His faithwould move mountains."
"So would mine," said Ernest Travers, "and so would yours, Walter. Butit is perfectly possible to be a Christian and a gentleman. To implythat our faith was weak because we expressed ordinary human emotions andpitied him unfeignedly for the loss of his only child--"
"Good-bye, good-bye, my dear friends," answered the other. "I cannot sayhow I esteem your kindly offices in this affliction. May we meet againpresently. God bless and keep you both."
The post-mortem examination revealed no physical reason why Thomas Mayshould have ceased to breathe. Neither did the subsequent investigationsof a Government analytical chemist throw any light upon the sailor'ssudden death. No cause existed, and therefore none could be reported atthe inquest held a day later.
The coroner's jury brought in a verdict rarely heard, but none dissentedfrom it. They held that May had received his death "by
the hand of God."
"All men receive death from the hand of God," said Septimus May, whenthe judicial inquiry was ended. "They receive life from the hand ofGod also. But, while bowing to that, there is a great deal more weare called to do when God's hand falls as it has fallen upon my son.To-night I shall pray beside his dust, and presently, when he is atpeace, I shall be guided. There is a grave duty beside me, Sir Walter,and none must come between me and that duty."
"There is a duty before all of us, and be sure nobody will shrinkfrom it. I have done what is right, so far. We have secured a famousdetective--the most famous in England, they tell me. He is called PeterHardcastle, and he will, I hope, be able to arrive here immediately."
The clergyman shook his head.
"I will say nothing at present," he answered. "But, believe me, athousand detectives cannot explain my son's death. I shall return tothis subject after the funeral, Sir Walter. But my conviction grows thatthe reason of these things will never be revealed to the eye of science.To the eye of faith alone we must trust the explanation of what hashappened. There are things concealed from the wise and prudent--to berevealed unto babes."
That night the master of Chadlands, his nephew, and the priest dinedtogether, and Henry Lennox implored a privilege.
"I feel I owe it to poor Tom in a way," he said. "I beg that you willlet me spend the night in the Grey Room, Uncle Walter. I would give mysoul to clear this."
But his uncle refused with a curt shake of the head, and the clergymanuttered a reproof.
"Do not speak so lightly," he said. "You use a common phrase and a veryobjectionable phrase, young man. Do you rate your soul so low that youwould surrender it for the satisfaction of a morbid craving? For that isall this amounts to. Not to such an inquirer will my son's death revealits secret."
"I have already received half-a-dozen letters from people offering andwishing to spend a night in that accursed room," said Sir Walter.
"Do not call it 'accursed' until you know more," urged Septimus May.
"You have indeed charity," answered the other.
"Why withhold charity? We must approach the subject in the only spiritthat can disarm the danger. These inquirers who seek to solve themystery are not concerned with my son's death, only the means thatbrought it about. Not to such as they will any answer be vouchsafed, andnot to the spirit of materialistic inquiry, either. I speak what I know,and will say more upon the subject at another time."
"You cannot accept this awful thing without resentment or demur, Mr.May?" asked Henry Lennox.
"Who shall demur? Did not even the unenlightened men who formed thecoroner's jury declare that Tom passed into another world by the handof God? Can we question our Creator? I, too, desire as much as any humanbeing can an explanation; what is more, I am far more confident of anexplanation than you or any other man. But that is because I alreadyknow the only road by which it will please God to send an explanation.And that is not the road which scientists or rationalists are used totravel. It is a road that I must be allowed to walk alone."
He left them after dinner, and returned to his daughter-in-law. Shehad determined not to attend the funeral, but Mr. May argued with her,examined her reasons, found them, in his opinion, not sufficient, andprevailed with her to change her mind.
"Drink the cup to the dregs," he said. "This is our grief, our trial.None feel and know what we feel and know, and your youth is called tobear a burden heavy to be borne. You must stand beside his grave assurely as I must commit him to it."
Men will go far to look upon the coffin of one whose end happens to bemysterious or terrible. The death of Sir Walter's son-in-law hadmade much matter for the newspapers, and not only Chadlands, but thecountryside converged upon the naval funeral, lined the route to thegrave, and crowded the little burying ground where the dead man wouldlie. Cameras pointed their eyes at the gun-carriage and the mournersbehind it. The photographers worked for a sort of illustrated paperthat tramples with a swine's hoofs and routs up with a swine's nose thematter its clients best love to purchase. Mary, supported by her fatherand her cousin, preserved a brave composure. Indeed, she was lessvisibly moved than they. It seemed that the ascetic parent of the deadhad power to lift the widow to his own stern self-control. The chaplainof Tom May's ship assisted at the service, but Septimus May conductedit. Not a few old messmates attended, for the sailor had been popular,and his unexpected death brought genuine grief to many men. Under apile of flowers the coffin was carried to the grave. Rare and preciousblossoms came from Sir Walter's friends, and H. M. S. Indomitable senta mighty anchor of purple violets. Mr. May read the service without atremor, but his eyes blazed out of his lean head, and there lacked notother signs to indicate the depth of emotion he concealed. Then thebluejackets who had drawn the gun-carriage fired a volley, and therattle of their musketry echoed sharply from the church tower.
Upon the evening of the day that followed Septimus May resumed thesubject concerning which he had already fitfully spoken. His ideas werenow in order, and he brought a formidable argument to support a strangerequest. Indeed, it amounted to a demand, and for a time it seemeddoubtful whether Sir Walter would deny him. The priest, indeed, declaredthat he could take no denial, and his host was thankful that other andstronger arguments than his own were at hand to argue the other side.For Dr. Mannering stayed at the manor house after the funeral, and theRev. Noel Prodgers, the vicar of Chadlands, a distant connection ofthe Lennoxes, was also dining there. Until now Mannering could not wellspeak, but he invited himself to dinner on the day after the funeralthat he might press a course of action upon those who had suffered soseverely. He wished Sir Walter to take his daughter away at once, forher health's sake, and while advancing this advice considered the elderalso, for these things had upset the master of Chadlands in mind andbody, and Mannering was aware of it.
On the morrow Peter Hardcastle would arrive, and he had urgentlydirected that his coming should be in a private capacity, unknown to thelocal police or neighborhood. Neither did he wish the staff of Chadlandsto associate him with the tragedy.
An official examination of the room had been made by the localconstabulary, as upon the occasion of Nurse Forrester's death; but itwas a perfunctory matter, and those responsible for it understood thatspecial attention would presently be paid to the problem by the supremeauthority.
"After this man has been and gone, I do earnestly beg you to leaveEngland and get abroad, Sir Walter," said Mannering. "I think it yourduty, not only for your girl's sake, but your own. Do not even wait forthe report. There is nothing to keep you, and I shall personally bevery thankful and relieved if you will manage this and take Mary to somefresh scenes, a place or country that she has not visited before. Thereis nothing like an entirely novel environment for distracting the mind,bracing the nerves, and restoring tone."
"I must do my duty," answered the other, "and that remains to be seen.If Hardcastle should find out anything, there may be a call upon me. Atleast, I cannot turn my back upon Chadlands till the mystery is threshedout to the bottom, as far as man can do it."
It was then that Septimus May spoke and astounded his hearers.
"You give me the opportunity to introduce my subject," he said, "for itbears directly on Sir Walter's intentions, and it is in my power, asI devoutly believe, to free him swiftly of any further need to remainhere. I am, of course, prepared to argue for my purpose, but wouldrather not do so. Briefly, I hold it a vital obligation to spend thisnight in the Grey Room, and I ask that no obstacle of any kind be raisedto prevent my doing so. The wisdom of man is foolishness before the witof God, and what I desire to do is God's will and wish, impressed uponme while I knelt for long hours and prayed to know it. I am convinced,and that should be enough. In this matter I am far from satisfied thatall has yet been done, within the Almighty's purpose and direction, todiscover the mystery of our terrible loss. But He helps those who helpthemselves, remember, and I owe it to my son, Sir Walter, and you owe itto your daughter Mary first, and the
community also, to take such stepsas Heaven, through me, has now directed."
They were for a moment struck dumb by this extraordinary assertion anddemand. A thousand objections leaped to the lips of the elder men,and Mr. Prodgers, a devout young Christian of poor physique but greatspiritual courage, found himself as interested by this fearless demandof faith as the others were alarmed by it.
Sir Walter spoke.
"We know it is so, May. None recognizes our obligations, both to theliving and the dead, more acutely than I do. A very famous man ofEuropean reputation will be here to-morrow, and if you, too, desire arepresentative, you have only got to say so."
"I desire no representative armed with material craft or knowledge ofcriminal procedure. I am my own representative, and I come armed withgreater power than any you can command on earth, Sir Walter. I mean myMaker's response to my prayer. I must spend the night in that room,and cannot leave Chadlands until I have done so. I trust to no humanexpedient or precaution, for such things would actually disarm me; butmy faith is in the God I have served to the best of my power from myyouth up. I entertain not the least shadow of fear or doubt. To fear ordoubt would be to fail. I rely absolutely on the Supreme Being whohas permitted this unspeakable sorrow to fall upon us, and there isno living man less likely than myself to fall a victim to the unknownspirit hidden here and permitted to exercise such awful control over us.The time has come to challenge that spirit in the name of its Maker, andto cleanse your house once and for all of something which, potent forevil though it is allowed to be, must yield to the forces of the MostHigh, even in the feeble hand of His minister."
The doctor spoke.
"Is it possible, sir, that you attribute your son's death to anythingbut natural physical forces?" he asked.
"Is it possible to do otherwise? How can you, of all men, ask? Sciencehas spoken--or, rather, science has been struck dumb. No natural,physical force is responsible for his end. He died without any causethat you could discover. This is no new thing, however. History recordsthat men have passed similarly under visitations beyond human power toexplain. If the Lord could slay multitudes in a night at a breath, aswe know from the pages of the Old Testament, then it is certain He canstill end the life of any man at any moment, and send His messengers todo so. I believe in good and evil spirits as I believe in my Bible,and I know that, strong and terrible though they may be and gifted withcapital powers against our flesh, yet the will of God is stronger thanthe strongest of them. These things, I say, have happened before. Theyare sent to try our faith. I do not mourn my son, save with the blind,natural pang of paternity, because I know that he has been withdrawnfrom this world for higher purposes in another; but the means of hisgoing I demand to investigate, because they may signify much more thanhis death itself. One reason for his death may be this: that we are nowcalled to understand what is hidden in the Grey Room. My son's deathmay have been necessary to that explanation. Human intervention may bedemanded there. One of God's immortal souls, for reasons we cannot tell,may be chained in that room, waiting its liberation at human hands. Weare challenged, and I accept the challenge, being impelled thereto bythe sacred message that has been put into my heart."
Even his fellow-priest stared in bewilderment at Septimus May'sextraordinary opinions, while to the physician this was the chatter of alunatic.
"I will take my Bible into that haunted room to-night," concluded theclergyman, "and I will pray to God, Who sits above both quick and dead,to protect me, guide me, and lead me to my duty."
Sir Walter spoke.
"You flout reason when you say these things, my dear May."
"And why should I not flout reason? What Christian but knows well enoughthat reason is the staff that breaks in our hands and wounds us? Muchof our most vital experience has no part nor lot with reason. A thousandthings happen in the soul's history which reason cannot account for. Athousand moods, temptations, incitements prompt us to action or deterus from it--urge us to do or avoid--for which reason is not responsible.Reason, if we bring these emotions to it, cannot even pronounce uponthem. Yet in them and from them springs the life of the soul and theconviction of immortality. 'To act on impulse'--who but daily realizesthat commonplace in his own experience? The mind does not only playtricks and laugh at reason in dreams while we sleep. It laughs at reasonwhile we wake, and the sanest spirit experiences inspired moments, madmoments, unaccountable impulses the reason for which he knows not.The ancients explained these as temptations of malicious and malignantspirits or promptings from unseen beings who wish man well. And wherethe urge is to evil, that may well be the truth; and where it is togood, who can doubt whence the inspiration comes?"
"And shall not my inspiration--to employ the cleverest detective inEngland--be also of good?" asked Sir Walter.
"Emphatically not. Because this thing is in another category than thatof human crime. It is lifted upon a plane where the knowledge of manavails nothing. You are a Christian, and you should understand this aswell as I do. If there is danger, then I am secure, because I have theonly arms that can avail in a battle of the spirit. My trust is shieldenough against any evil being that may roam this earth or be held byinvisible bonds within the walls of the Grey Room. I will justify theways of God to man and, through the channel of potent prayer, exorcisethis presence and bring peace to your afflicted house. For any livingfellow-creature would I gladly pit my faith against evil; how much more,then, in a matter where my very own life's blood has been shed? Youcannot deny me this. It is my right."
"I will ask you to listen to the arguments against you, nevertheless,"replied Mannering. "You have propounded an extraordinary theory, andmust not mind if we disagree with you."
"Speak for yourself alone, then," answered May. "I do not ask or expecta man of your profession to agree with me. But the question ceases to beyour province."
"Do not say that, sir," urged Henry Lennox. "I don't think my uncleagrees with you either. You are assuming too much."
"Honestly, I can't quite admit your assumption, my dear May," declaredSir Walter. "You go too far--farther than is justified at this stage ofevents, at any rate. Were we in no doubt that a spirit is grantedpower within my house to destroy human life, then I confess, with dueprecautions, I could not deny you access to it in the omnipotent Nameyou invoke. I am a Christian and believe my Bible as soundly as you do.But why assume such an extraordinary situation? Why seek a supernaturalcause for dear Tom's death before we are satisfied that no otherexists?"
"Are you not satisfied? What mortal man can explain the facts on anyfoundation of human knowledge?"
"Consider how limited human knowledge is," said Mannering, "and grantthat we have not exhausted its possibilities yet. There may be somephysical peculiarity about the room, some deadly but perfectly naturalchemical accident, some volatile stuff, in roof or walls, that reacts tothe lowered temperatures of night. A thousand rare chance combinationsof matter may occur which are capable of examination, and which,under skilled experiment, will resolve their secret. Nothing it morebewildering than a good conjuring trick till we know how it is done, andNature is the supreme conjurer. We have not found out all her tricks,and never shall do so; but we very well know that a solution to all ofthem exists."
"A material outlook and arrogant," said the priest.
Whereupon Mannering grew a little warm.
"It is neither material nor arrogant. I am humbler than you, and yourpositive assertion seems much the more arrogant. This is the twentiethcentury, and your mediaeval attitude would win no possible sympathy orsupport from any educated man."
"Truth can afford to be patient," answered May. "But I, too, am quitesane, though your face doubts it. I do not claim that human prayer canalter physical laws, and I do not ask my Maker to work a miracle on mybehalf or suspend the operations of cause and effect. But I am satisfiedthat we are in a region outside our experience and on another plane anddimension than those controlled by natural law. God has permitted us toenter such a region. He has o
pened the door into this mystery. He hasspoken to my soul and so directed me that I cannot sit with foldedhands. This is, I repeat, a challenge to me personally.
"There is, as I potently believe, a being in bondage here which only thevoice of God, speaking through one of His creatures, can liberate. IfI am wrong, then I shall pray in vain; if right, as I know by deepestconviction and intuition, then my prayer must avail. In any case, I domy duty, and if I myself was called to die while so doing, what noblerdeath can I desire?"
Mannering regarded the speaker with growing concern. But he stillassumed sanity on the part of the reverend gentleman, and still feltconsiderable irritation mix with his solicitude.
"You must consider others a little," he said.
"No, Dr. Mannering; they must consider me. Providence sends me a messagedenied to the rest of you, because I am a fit recipient; you are not. Itis Newman's 'Illative Sense'--a conviction arising from well-springsfar deeper and purer than those that account for human reason. I knowbecause I know. Reasoning, at best, is mere inference deduced fromobservation, but I am concerned with an inspiration--a something akin tothe gift of prophecy."
"Then I can only hope that Sir Walter will exercise his rights andresponsibilities and deny you what you wish."
"He has faith, and I am sorry that you lack it."
"No, Mr. May, you must not say that. It is entirely reasonable thatMannering should ask you to consider others," said Sir Walter. "To youa sudden and peaceful death might be no ill; but it would be a veryserious ill to the living--a loss to your work on earth, which is notdone, a shock and grief to those who respect you, and a reflection onall here."
"Let the living minister to the living and put their trust in God."
Mannering spoke to the vicar of Chadlands.
"What do you think, Prodgers? You are a parson, too, yet may be ableto see with our eyes. Surely common sense shouldn't be left out of ourcalculations, even if they concern the next world?"
"I respect Mr. May's faith," answered the younger priest, "and assuredlyI believe that if we eliminate all physical and natural causes from poorCaptain May's death, then no member of our sacred calling should fearto spend the night alone in that room. Jacob wrestled with the angel oflight. Shall the servants of God fear to oppose a dark angel?"
"Well spoken," said Mr. May.
"But that is not all, sir," continued Noel Prodgers. "It is impossiblethat we can share such certainty as you claim. Probability lies entirelyagainst it. This has happened twice, remember, and each time a valuableand precious life disappears, for causes beyond our knowledge. That,however, is no reason for assuming the causes are beyond all humanknowledge. We do not all possess learning in physics. I would venturemost earnestly to beg you to desist, at least until much more has beendone and this famous professional man has made such researches as hisgenius suggests. That is only reasonable, and reason, after all, is amighty gift of God--a gift, no doubt, often abused by finite beings,who actually use it to defy the Giver--yet none the less, in its properplace, the handmaid of faith and the light of true progress."
But Septimus May argued against him. "To shelter behind reason at sucha moment is to blunt the sword of the spirit," he replied, "and humanreason is never the handmaid of faith, as you wrongly suggest, but herobdurate, unsleeping foe. That which metaphysicians call intuition, andwhich I call the voice of God, tells me in clear tones that my boy diedby no human agency whatever and by no natural accident. He was wraptfrom this life to the next in the twinkling of an eye by forces, or aforce, concerning which we know nothing save through the Word of God.I will go farther. I will venture to declare that this death-dealingghost, or discarnate but conscious being, may not be, as you say, a darkangel--perhaps not wholly evil--perhaps not evil at all. One thing nonecan question--it did the will of its Creator, as we all must, and weare not, therefore, justified in asserting that a malignant force wasexerted. To say so is to speak in terms of our own bitter loss and ourown aching hearts. But we are justified in believing that a fearful,unknown power was liberated during the night that Tom died, and I desireto approach that power upon my knees and with my life in my Maker'shands."
The conviction of this righteous but superstitious soul was uttered withpassionate zeal. He puzzled to understand how fellow Christians couldargue against him, and much resented the fact that Sir Walter withstoodhis claim and declined to permit the experiment he desired to make. Aformalist and precisian, he held any sort of doubt to be backslidingbefore the message in his own heart. They argued unavailingly with him,and Henry Lennox suggested a compromise.
"Why is it vital, after all, that only one should undertake thisordeal?" he asked. "I begged you to let me try--for revenge."
"Do not use that word," said Mr. Prodgers.
"Well, at any rate, I feel just as great a call to be there as Tom'sfather can feel--just as pressing a demand and desire. There may havebeen foul play. At any rate, the thing was done by an active agency, andTom was taken in some way at a disadvantage. There was no fair fight,I'll swear. He was evidently kneeling, calmly enough looking out ofthe window, when he died, and the blow must have been a coward's blow,struck from behind, whoever struck it."
"There was no blow, Henry," said Sir Walter.
"Death is a blow, uncle--the most awful blow a strong man can be calledto suffer, surely. And I beg this, that if you won't let me face theinfernal thing alone you'll let me share this business with Mr. May. Hecan pray and I can--watch."
But the dead man's father made short work of Henry's proposition.
"You are introducing that very element of rationalism to be, before allthings, distrusted here. The mere introduction of human precaution andhuman weapons would sully faith and make of no avail the only sure meansof winning light on this solemn problem. Reason, so employed, would be ahindrance--an actual danger. Only absolute faith can unravel the mysterybefore us."
"Then, frankly, I tell you that I lack any such absolute faith,"declared Sir Walter.
"Do not say that--you libel yourself and are letting a base and materialfear cloud your own trust," answered May. "As there is no human reasonfor what has happened, so no human reason will be found to explain it.By denying me, you are denying the sole means by which this dark terrorcan be banished. You are denying God's offer of peace. We must not onlyseek peace, but ensure it. That means that we are now called to takesuch steps as the Almighty puts at our service by the road of conscienceand faith. I have a right to this revelation as my boy's father. The cupis mine, and you will do very wrongly if you deny me the right to drinkit. I desire to say, 'Peace be to this house' before I leave it, and,Christian to Christian, you cannot deny me, or hesitate as to youranswer."
No argument would bend his obstinate conviction, and he debated withgreat force from his own standpoint. He presented a man overmastered andmentally incapable of appreciating any argument against his possession.
But Sir Walter, now determined, was as obstinate as the clergyman.Mannering bluntly declared that it would be suicide on May's part, and aconniving at the same by any who permitted him to attempt his vigil.
"I, too, must do my duty as I see it," summed up the master ofChadlands, "and after I have done so, then we may be in a position toadmit the case is altered."
The other suddenly rose and lifted his hands. He was trembling withemotion.
"May my God give a sign, then!" he cried.
They were silent a moment, for courtesy or astonishment. Nothinghappened, and presently Sir Walter spoke:
"You must bear with me. You are upset, and scarcely know the gravity ofthe things you say. To-morrow the physical and material investigationthat I consider proper, and the world has a right to demand, will bemade--in a spirit, I hope, as earnest and devout as your own. And ifafter that no shadow of explanation is forthcoming, and no peril to lifecan be discovered, then I should feel disposed to consider your viewsmore seriously--with many reserves, however. At any rate, it will beyour turn then, if you still adhere to your op
inions; and I am sureall just persons who hear of your purpose would join their prayers withyou."
"Your faith is weak, though you believe it strong," answered the other.
And he was equally curt when the physician advised him to take asleeping-draught before retiring. He bade them "Good-night" withoutmore words, and went to his room, while after further conversation, Dr.Mannering and Mr. Prodgers took their leave.
The former strongly urged Sir Walter to set some sort of guard outsidethe door of the Grey Room.
"That man's not wholly sane to-night," he declared, "and he appears toglory in the fact that he isn't. He must surely be aware that much hesaid was superstitious bosh. Look after him. Guard his own apartment.That will be the simplest plan."
When they had gone, Sir Walter addressed his nephew. They went upstairstogether and stood for a moment outside the Grey Room. The door was wideopen, and the place brilliantly lighted by a high-powered bulb. So hadit been by night ever since the disaster. None of the household enteredit, and none, save Sir Walter or Henry, was willing to do so until moreshould be known.
"I have your word of honor you will not go into that room to-night,"said his uncle; "but such is the mental condition of this poor clergymanthat I can but feel Mannering is right. May might, from some fanciedcall of the spirit, take the law into his own hands and do what hewishes to do. This must be prevented at any cost. I will ask you, Henry,to follow the doctor's suggestion on my behalf, and keep guard over him.Oppose him actively if he should appear, and call me. I would suggestthat Caunter or Masters accompanied you, but that is only to make gossipand mystery."
"On no account. I'll look after him. You can trust me. I expect he'spretty worn out after such a harrowing day, poor old beggar. He'llprobably sleep soundly enough when he gets to bed."
"I trust so. I cannot offer to aid you myself, for I am dead beat," saidthe other.
Then they parted, and the younger presently took up a position in thewest wing of the house, where Septimus May had his bedroom.
Not until sunrise did Henry Lennox go to his own chamber, but hissleepless night proved a needless precaution, for Septimus May gave nosign.
The Grey Room Page 4
