CHAPTER XI.
HOW THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENED.
When I came to myself I was lying with my head pillowed on Garnesk'sarm. My coat and collar were on the ground beside me, and my head andshoulders were dripping with water.
"Ah!" said my companion, with a sigh of relief, "that's better. You'llbe all right in a few minutes, Ewart. Take it easy, old chap, andrest."
"Where am I?" I asked. "Good heavens!" I exclaimed, as I heard my ownvoice, and sat bolt upright in my astonishment, "I thought I wasdumb!"
"Well, never mind about that now, old fellow," Garnesk advised. "We'llhear all about that later. Shut your eyes and rest a minute."
"All right," I agreed, "pass me my pipe and I will."
Garnesk laughed aloud as he leaned over to reach my coat pocket.
"When a man shouts for his pipe he's a long way from being dead ordumb or anything else," he said.
Truth to tell, I was feeling very queer. I was dizzy and confused, butI felt that I wanted my pipe to help me collect my thoughts. So I laythere for some minutes quietly smoking, and indeed I felt as if Icould have stayed like that for ever.
"I must have fainted," I explained presently, overlooking the factthat Garnesk probably knew more about my ridiculous seizure than I didmyself. "I don't know when I did a thing like that before," I added,beginning to get angry with myself.
"Well, I hope you won't do it again," said my friend fervently. "It'snot a thing to make a hobby of. And don't you come near this infernalriver any more until we know something definite."
"You mean that the place has got on my nerves," I said. "I suppose ithas; I'm very sorry."
"Do you feel well enough to tell me all about it?" he asked, "or wouldyou rather wait till we get up to the house?"
"Oh, I'll tell you now," I agreed readily. "We mustn't say anythingabout this at the house." So I told him exactly how I had felt.
"When did it first come on?" he asked.
"When I heard you shout, and jumped up to see what it was. By the way,what was it?"
"Well," he replied, "we'll discuss the matter if you wouldn't mindreleasing my arm?"
"My dear fellow," I cried, sitting up suddenly, as I realised that hewas still propping up my head, "I'm most awfully sorry."
"Now then," he said, as he lighted his pipe and made himselfcomfortable, "we'll go into the latest development. You remember whatmade me rush off and leave you there?"
"I remember saying something about the sunlight, and you suddenlydashed off."
"To tell you the truth, I had very little faith in the theory that atthis hour, above all, the spook of the Chemist's Rock was active,until you pointed out that only about that time is the whole of theriver course up to the rock, and the whole of the rock itself, floodedwith sunlight. Then, when you made that remark, I suddenly felt that Iought to be on the cliff on the look out for this unknown yacht. Weconnect the two together in some way which we don't yet understand, soI meant to go and have a look for the ship. I saw nothing of anyimportance until I shouted to you. Just then I was looking through theglasses at the shore. I turned them on the landing-stage and along thebeach, and I had just lighted on the bay where we explored thismorning when suddenly, for half a second or so, all the shadows of therocks turned a vivid green, and then as suddenly resumed their naturalcolour again."
"Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "Green again! Can you make anything of itat all, Garnesk? I'm sorry I'm such a duffer as to faint at thecritical moment, when I might have been of some assistance to you.What in God's name can it all mean?"
"I'm no further on," he replied bitterly; "in fact, I'm further back."
"Further back!" I cried. "How? I don't see how you can be."
"I'll tell you what my theory was about all this affair, and it struckme as a good one--strange, of course, but then, this is a strangebusiness."
"It is, indeed," I agreed ruefully. "Well, go on."
"I had an idea, Ewart, that we should find some sort of wirelesstelegraphy at the bottom of this business. I had almost made up mymind that we had stumbled across the path of some inventor who wasworking with a new form of wireless transmission. I felt that in thatway we might account for Miss McLeod's blindness and the blindness ofthe dog. It also seemed to hold good as to the disappearance ofSholto. The inventor hears of the extraordinary effect of hisinvention, and is afraid he will get into a mess if it is found out.The yacht to experiment from fitted in beautifully. But now all that'sknocked on the head."
"Why?" I asked. "It seems to me, Garnesk, that you are doing all thethinking in this affair, as if you had been used to it all your life.Your only trouble is that you're too modest. I take it that becauseyou didn't see the yacht when you noticed the green flash you aretaking it for granted you were wrong to expect it. I must say, oldchap, I think you've done thundering well, as the General would putit, and even if you are prepared to admit your theory has beenknocked on the head I'm not--at any rate, not until I have a jollygood reason. Yet it doesn't seem to matter much what I say or do ifI'm going to faint like a girl at the first sign of danger. If youhadn't come to my rescue I might still be lying there waiting to comeround, or something," I finished in disgust.
My companion looked at me thoughtfully.
"Ewart," he said, and solemnly shook his head, "you have brought me tothe very thing that made me say my theory was exploded."
"What thing?" I asked. "Surely my fainting can't have made anydifference to conclusions you had already come to?"
"But then you see," my friend replied, "you didn't faint. And if I hadnot seen you were in difficulties you would probably never haverecovered."
"Didn't faint?" I exclaimed. "Well, I don't know what the medical termfor it is, and I daresay there are several technical phrases for thegirlish business I went through. That idea of being dumb was simplyimagination, but I assure you it was just what I should call afainting fit."
"I don't want to alarm you if you're not feeling well," he beganapologetically.
"Go on," I urged. "I'm as fit as I ever was."
"Well," the young specialist responded, in a serious tone, "if youwant to know the truth, Ewart, you were suffocated."
"Suffocated!" I shouted, jumping to my feet. "What in heaven's name doyou mean?"
"I can't tell you exactly what I mean because I don't know, but yourswas certainly not an ordinary fainting fit. To put the whole thing innon-medical terms, you were practically drowned on dry land!"
I sat down again--heavily at that. Should we never come to an end ofthese mysterious attacks which were hurled at us in broad daylightfrom nowhere at all?
"I'm not sure that you hadn't better rest before we go into thisfully, Ewart," Garnesk remarked doubtfully. "You're not by any meansas fit as you've ever been, in spite of your emphatic assurance."
"Tell me what you think, why you think it, and what you feel we oughtto do. Why, man, Myra might have been here alone, with no one torescue her and--and----"
"Quite so," said Ewart sympathetically. "So you must comfort yourselfwith the knowledge that it may be a great blessing that she hastemporarily lost her sight. Now, I say you didn't faint, because,medically, I know you didn't. For the same reason I say you weresuffocating as surely as if you had been drowning. Hang it, my dearchap, it's my line of business, you know. I can't account for it, butthere is the naked fact for you."
"How does this affect your previous conclusions?" I asked. "Before youtell me what you think brought on this suffocation I should like tohear why you give up your theory."
"Simply because no wireless, or other electric current, could havethat effect upon you. If you had had an electric shock in any of itsmany curious forms I could have said it bore me out; but, you see,it's impossible. And, as I refuse to believe that we are continuallybumping into new mysteries which have no connection with each other,it follows that if this suffocation was not caused by the supposedwireless experiments, the other can't have been either."
"I'm not making the slight
est imputation on your medical knowledge," Iventured, "but are you absolutely certain that you are not mistaken?"
"My dear fellow," he laughed, "for goodness sake don't be soapologetic. I can quite see that you find it difficult to believe. ButI am prepared to swear to it all the same. For one thing, the symptomswere unmistakable; for another, it seems impossible that we shouldboth faint at exactly the same time and place for no reason at all."
"You didn't faint too, surely?" I cried.
"No," he admitted, "but we might very easily have been suffocatedtogether--smothered as surely as the princes in the Tower. When I sawyou were in difficulties I shouted to you. Obviously you didn't hearme. I naturally didn't wait to see what would happen to you; Icleared down the cliff, and sprinted to you as fast as I could. When Icame to within about twenty yards of you I found a difficulty inbreathing. I went on for a couple of paces, and realised that the airwas almost as heavy as water. So I rushed back, undid my collar, tooka deep breath; and bolted in to you, picked you up, and carted youhere. _Voila!_ But I very nearly joined you on the ground, and then wewould never have regained consciousness, either of us. I applied thesimplest form of artificial respiration to you, dowsed your head, andnow you're all right. On the whole, Ewart, we can consider ourselvesvery well out of this latest adventure."
"What you're really telling me," I pointed out gratefully, "is thatyou saved my life at the risk of your own. I'm no good at makingspeeches, or anything of that sort, Garnesk, but I thank you, if youknow what that means. And Myra will----"
"Not a word to her, Ewart," my companion interrupted eagerly."Whatever you do, don't on any account worry that poor girl with thisnew complication. Anything on earth but that."
"No," I agreed; "you're right there. Myra must be kept in the dark."
"Yes," he replied, with a look of relief. "It might have a seriouseffect on her chances of recovery if she had this additional worry.And I don't think it would be advisable to tell the old man either. Ithink we had better keep it to ourselves absolutely. Tell no one,Ewart, except your friend when he comes."
"Very well," I answered, for I was very anxious to spare both Myra andher father from the knowledge of any further trouble. "I'll tellDennis when he comes, but otherwise it is our secret."
"Good," said Garnesk. "Now put your coat on, old chap, and we'llstroll back to the house."
I got up and buttoned my collar, retied my bow, and slipped into myjacket. I was rather uncomfortably damp, and I felt a bit shaky andqueer, and decided that I could do with a complete rest from themysteries of the green ray. But the subject remained uppermost in mymind, and my tired brain still strove to unravel the tangled threadsof the puzzle.
"By the way," I said, as we walked slowly up to the house, "you havenot yet explained what there was in my remark about the sunlight thatmade you think of the yacht."
"Well," he replied, "you see I had an idea that perhaps they mightcome here when the gorge, through which the river flows, was floodedwith light, so that they could see if any strange effects wereproduced. But that suffocation was not brought about by any electricalexperiment, and I am beginning to be afraid that, after all, we may beup against some strange natural phenomena, some terrible combinationof the forces of Nature, which has not yet been observed, or at anyrate recorded."
"Why afraid?" I asked, for although I had been glad to believe that wewere faced with a problem which would prove to have a human solution,the revulsion had come, and I should have welcomed the knowledge thatsome weird, freakish application of natural power might be heldaccountable.
"Afraid?" queried Garnesk, with a note of surprise. "I am very oftenafraid of Nature. She is a devoted slave, but a cruel mistress. Idon't think that I should ever be very much scared by a human being,even in his most fiendish aspect, but Nature--I tell you, Ewart, thereare things in Nature that make me shudder!"
"Yes," I agreed heavily, "you're right, of course. That's how I havefelt for the past twenty-four hours. It was a tremendous relief to meto feel that we were men looking for men. But the last few minutes Ihave had an idea that it would be comforting to explain it all out ofa text-book of physics. Still, you're right. It is better far to bemen fighting men than to be puny molecules tossed in the maelstrom ofimmutable power which created the world, and may one day destroy it."
"I'm glad you agree," he said simply. "You see you could not possiblylive for a second in electrically produced atmosphere which wasso thick that you couldn't hear yourself speak. Death would beinstantaneous. It couldn't have been our unknown professor's wirelessexperiments after all. Yet it seems impossible that a sudden new powershould crop up suddenly at one spot like this. Imagine what wouldhappen if this had occurred in a city, in a crowded street. Hundredswould have been stricken blind, then hundreds would have beensuffocated. Vehicles would have run amok, and the result would havebeen an indescribable chaos of the maimed, mangled and distraught. Aflash like this green ray (which blinded Miss McLeod and her dog,deluded the General, and nearly suffocated us) at the mouth of aharbour, say, the entrance to a great port--Liverpool, London, orGlasgow--would be responsible for untold loss of life. If thisterrible phenomenon spread, Ewart, it would paralyse the industry ofthe world in twenty-four hours. If it spread still farther the face ofthe globe would become the playing-fields of Bedlam in a moment. Thinkof the result of this everywhere! Some suffocated, some blinded, andmillions probably mad and sightless, stumbling over the bodies of thedead to cut each other's throats in the frenzy of sudden imbecility."
"Don't, Garnesk," I begged. "It won't bear thinking about. We haveenough troubles here to deal with without that!"
"Yes," my companion admitted, "we need not add to them by any idleconjectures of still more hideous horrors to come. But it is aninteresting, if terrible speculation. And it means one thing to us,Ewart, of the very greatest importance. We must solve the riddlesomehow."
"You mean," I cried, as I realised the tremendous import of hiswords--"you mean that the sanity of the universe may rest with us! Youmean that if we can solve this riddle we, or others, may be able todevise some means of prevention, or at least protection? You mean thatwe are in duty bound to keep at this night and day until we find outwhat it is?"
"That is just what I do mean," he replied seriously. "It is a solemnduty; who knows, it may be a holy trust. Ewart, we agree to get to thebottom of this? We have agreed once, but are we still prepared to goon with this now that we know we may be crushed in the machinery thatcontrols the solar system and lights the very sun?"
"I shall certainly go on," I replied eagerly. "But we can hardlyexpect you to run risks on our behalf."
"It may be in the interests of civilisation," he answered, "and inthat case it is our duty. Now look here, Ewart, this will have to be asecret. It is essential that we should not get ourselves laughed atbecause, for one thing, the scoffers may get into serious trouble ifthey start investigating our assertions in a spirit of levity. Youand I must keep this to ourselves entirely. What about your friend?"
"I can trust him," I replied simply.
"Then tell him everything," Garnesk advised. "If you know you can relyupon him he may be of great assistance to us."
"What about Hilderman?" I asked. "He knows a good deal already."
"There is no need for him to know any more. He may be of some use tous. I had thought he might be of the greatest use, but he may be ableto help us still. We should decrease, rather than augment, hisusefulness by telling him these new complications."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, for instance, he might think we are mad, although he's a veryshrewd fellow."
"Yes," I agreed, "I think he's pretty cute. Funny that Americans sooften are. Anyway, he's been cute enough to make sufficient to retireon at a fairly early age, and retire comfortably too."
"H'm," was my companion's only comment.
After dinner that evening we discussed all sorts of subjects, mainlythe war, of course, and went to bed early.
&nbs
p; "Now, Ron," exclaimed Myra, as we said good-night, "if Mr. Garnesk isreally going to leave us on Monday, you mustn't let him worry aboutthings to-morrow. Do let him have one day's holiday while he is withus, anyway."
"I will," I agreed. "We'll have a real holiday to-morrow. Suppose weall go up Loch Hourn in the motor-boat in the afternoon?"
So it was arranged that we should have an afternoon on the sea and amorning's fishing on the loch. Garnesk fell in with the idea readily.
"It will do you good," he declared. "You won't be feeling too friskyin the morning after your adventure this afternoon."
As it turned out he was quite right, for I awoke in the morning with aslight headache and a tendency to ache all over. So we fished the lochin a very leisurely fashion for an hour or two, and after lunch thefour of us went up to Kinlochbourn. We took a tea-basket with us, andvery nearly succeeded in banishing the green ray altogether from ourminds. I had taken my Kodak with me, and we ran in shore, andotherwise altered our course occasionally in order to enable me torecord some choice peep of the magnificent scenery. When we got backto the lodge we were all feeling much the better for the outing. Afterdinner Myra, who had taken the greatest interest in the photographs,although, poor child, she could not see what I had taken, and wouldnot be able to see the result either, was anxious to know how they hadturned out.
"I should love to know if the snapshots are good," she said,"particularly the one at Caolas Mor. Develop them in the morning,Ronnie, won't you? If you don't you'll probably take them away, andforget all about them."
Garnesk looked at me. He was always on the _qui vive_ for anyopportunity to give Myra a little pleasure. He felt very strongly thatshe must be kept from worrying at all costs.
"Why not develop them now, Ewart?" he suggested.
"Certainly," I said, "if everybody will excuse me."
"Dad's in the library," Myra replied, "but everybody else will comewith you if you ask us nicely. Besides, I shall have to tell you whereeverything is. There's plenty of room for us all."
"Right you are," I agreed readily, and went out to get a small foldingarmchair from the verandah. We went up to the dark-room at the top ofthe house, and Myra sat in the corner, giving me instructions as tothe position of the bottles, etc. I prepared the developer whileGarnesk busied himself with the fixing acid.
"Now we're ready," I announced, as I made sure that the light-tightdoor was closed, and lowered the ruby glass over the orange on Myra'simposing dark-room lamp; she believed in doing things comfortably; nomessing about with an old-fashioned "hock-bottle" for her. I took thespool from my pocket and began to develop them _en bloc_.
"How are they coming along?" Myra asked, leaning forward interestedly.
"They're beginning to show up," I replied; "they look ratherpromising."
"It's rather warm in here," said the girl presently; "do you think itwould matter if I removed my shade, Mr. Garnesk?"
"Not if you put it on again before we put the light up," thespecialist answered. Myra took off the shade and the heavy bandagewith a sigh of relief, and leaned her elbow on the table beside her.
"There's a glass beaker just by your arm, dear," I said; "just aminute and I'll put it out of reach."
"All right," said Garnesk, moving forward, "I'll move it; don't youworry."
But before he could reach the table there was a crash. The beaker wentsmashing to the floor. I turned with a laugh, which died on my lips.Myra was standing up with her hand to her head.
"What is it, darling?" I cried, dropping the length of film on thefloor. Garnesk made a grab for the shade. Myra gave a short, shrilllittle laugh, which had a slightly ominous, hysterical note in it.
"Don't be alarmed, dear," she said quietly, in a curiously tensevoice, "_I can see!_"
The Mystery of the Green Ray Page 11
