The Grey Room

by Eden Phillpotts

  CHAPTER XIII. TWO NOTES

  They walked in the garden next morning, and Sir Walter delayed to writeto Scotland Yard until after seeing Signor Mannetti again. Theold gentleman descended to them presently, and declared himselfover-fatigued.

  "I must sit in the sun and go to sleep again after lunch," he said."Stephano is annoyed with me, and hints at the doctor."

  "Mannering will be here to lunch. You will understand that nobody ismore deeply interested in these things than he."

  "But yourself," said Mary. "Come and sit down and rest. You are lookingvery tired to-day."

  "A little reaction--no more. It was worth it." He then proceeded wherehe had broken off on the preceding night.

  "There remains only to tell you how I found myself caught up in your sadstory. It had not occurred to you to wonder?"

  "I confess I had never thought of that, signor. You made us forget sucha trifling detail."

  "But, none the less, you will want to know, Sir Walter. Our commonfriend, Colonel Vane, put the first thought in my head. He laid thetrain to which I set the match so well. He it was who described the GreyRoom very exactly, and the moment that I heard of the ancient carvedfurniture, I knew that he spoke of curios concerning which I alreadyhad heard. The name of Lennox completed the clue, for that had alreadystirred memories in my ancient mind. I had listened to my father, whenI was young, telling a story in which a bed and chairs and a gentlemannamed Lennox were connected. He spoke of an ancient Italian suite ofthree pieces, the work of craftsmen at Rome in the fifteenth century. Itwas papal furniture of the early Renaissance, well known to him as beingin a Spanish collection--a hundred and fifty years ago that is now--andwhen these things came into the market, he rejoiced and hurried off toValencia, where it was to be sold. For he was even such a man as yourgrandfather--a connoisseur and an enthusiastic collector. But, alas, hishopes were short-lived; he found himself in opposition to a deeper pursethan his own, and it was Sir John Lennox, not my father, who securedthe bed and the two chairs that go with it. These things, as I tell you,returned to my recollection, and, remembering them, I guessed myselfupon the right track. The arms of the Borgia, and the successfulexperiment with the dog, Prince, proved that I was correct in guessingwhere the poison lay hidden."

  "It is impossible to express my sense of your amazing goodness, or mygratitude, or my admiration for your genius," declared Sir Walter; butthe other contradicted him.

  "Genius is a great word to which I can lay no claim. I have done nothingat all that you yourself might not have done, given the same knowledge.As for gratitude, if indeed that is not too strong an expression also,you can show gratitude in a very simple manner, dear friend. I am apractical, old man and, to be honest, I very greatly covet the Borgiabed and chairs. Now, if indeed you feel that I am not asking too granda favor--a favor out of all keeping with my good offices on yourbehalf--then let me purchase the bed and chairs, and convey them with mehome to Rome. It is seemly that they should return to Rome, is it not?Rome would welcome them. I much desire to sleep in that bed--to be whereI am so sure Prince Djem lay when he breathed his last. Yes, believe me,he received your bed as a gracious present from Alexander VI. The Borgiawere generous of such gifts."

  "The bed and chairs are yours, my dear signor, and the rest of thecontents of the Grey Room, also, if you esteem them in any way."

  "Positively I could not, Sir Walter."

  "Indeed you shall. It is done, and leaves me greatly your debtor still."

  "Then be it so. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Nor will I saythat you oppress me with such extraordinary generosity, for is it notmore blessed to give than receive? Heavens knows what dark evils the bedmay have committed in the course of its career, but its activities areat an end. For me it shall bring no more than honest slumber. But themattress--no. I do not want the mattress. That will be a nice presentfor the museum of your Royal College of Surgeons."

  A week later the old man was sufficiently rested, and he returned home,taking his treasures with him. But he did not depart until he had wona promise that Sir Walter and Mary would visit him at Rome within theyear.

  Experts again descended upon Chadlands, packed the source of tribulationwith exceeding care, and conveyed it to London for examination. Thosedestined to make the inquiry were much alive to their perils, and tookno risk.

  Six weeks later letters passed between England and Rome, and SirWalter wrote to Signor Mannetti, sending such details as he was able tofurnish.

  "A thin, supple wire was found to run between the harmless flock of themattress and the satin casing," wrote Sir Walter. "Experiments showedthat neither the stuffing nor the outer case contained any harmfulsubstance. But the wire, of which fifty miles wound over the upperand lower surfaces of the mattress under its satin upholstery, provedinfinitely sensitive to heat, and gave off, or ejected at tremendousspeed, an invisible, highly poisonous matter even at a lower temperaturethan that of a normal human being. Insects placed upon it perished inthe course of a few hours, and it destroyed microscopic life and fishand frogs in water at comparatively low temperatures, that causedthe living organisms no inconvenience until portions of the wire wereintroduced. A cat died in eight minutes; a monkey in ten. No pain ordiscomfort marked the operation of the wire on unconscious creatures.They sank into death as into sudden sleep, and examination revealed nophysical effects whatever. The wire is an alloy, and the constituentmetals have not yet been determined; but it is not an amalgam, formercury is absent. The wire contains thallium and helium as thespectroscope shows; but its awful radioactivity and deadly emanation hasyet to be explained. The chemical experts have a startling theory. Theysuspect there is a new element here--probably destined to occupy one ofthe last unfilled places of the Periodic Table, which chronicles allthe elements known to science. Chemical analysis fails to reach theradio-active properties, and for their examination the electroscope andspinthariscope are needful. With these the radio-chemists are at work.The wire melted at a lower temperature than lead, but melting did notdestroy its potency. After cooling, the metal retained its propertiesand was still responsive, as before, to warmth. But experiment showsthat in a molten state, the metal of the wire increases in effect,and any living thing brought within a yard of it under this conditionsuccumbs instantly. Its properties cannot be extracted, so far, from theactual composition of the wire. They prove also that the emanation fromthe warmed wire is exceedingly subtle, tenuous, and volatile. Save underconditions of super-heat, it only operates at two feet and a few inches,and the wire naturally grows cold very quickly. It is almost as light asaluminium. A gas mask does not arrest the poison; indeed, it evidentlyenters a body through the nearest point offered to it and a safe shieldhas not yet been discovered.

  "I shall tell you more when we know more," concluded Sir Walter. "But atpresent it looks as though your prophecy were correct, and that scienceis not going to get at the bottom of the horrible secret easily. Dr.Mannering says that the properties of the elements have yet to befully determined, while the subject of alloys was never suspected ofcontaining such secrets as may prove to be the case. If more there is tolearn, you shall learn it."

  In his reply, Signor Mannetti declared that the Borgia bed continued tobe a source of extreme satisfaction and comfort to him.

  "As yet no vision has broken my slumbers, but I continue to hope thatthe Oriental features of Sultan Bajazet's brother may presently revisitthe place of his taking off, and that Prince Djem will some night affordme the pleasure of a conversation. How much might we tell each otherthat neither of us knows!

  "As to the wire, my friend, I will explain to you how that was probablycreated and, right or wrong, there is nobody on this earth at presentwho can prove my theory to be mistaken. Be sure that a medievalalchemist, searching in vain for elixir vitae, or the philosopher'sstone, chanced upon this infernal synthesis and fusion. For him, nodoubt, it proved a philosopher's stone in earnest, for the Borgiaalways extended a generous hand to those who could assist th
eir damnableactivities. Transmutation--so a skilled friend assures me--is now provedto be a fact, and another generation will be able perhaps to makegold, if the desire for that accursed mineral continues much longer todominate mankind.

  "Farewell for the present. Again to see you and your daughter is one ofthose pleasures lying in wait for me, to make next winter a season ofgladness rather than dismay. But do not change your minds. One must keepfaith with a man of eighty, or risk the possibilities of remorse."