The Grey Room - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Grey Room Part 12 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"A fatuous, archaic a.s.sumption, and long since destroyed by actual, human experience," he replied. "It is time such blasphemous folly should be banished from the Statute Book. I say 'blasphemous' because such an Act takes no cognizance of the Word of G.o.d. Outworn Acts of Parliament are responsible for a great deal of needless misery in this world, and it is high time these ordinances of another generation were sent to the dust heap."
"In that last opinion I heartily agree with you," declared the detective.
Henry ventured a quotation. He was much interested to learn whether Hardcastle had any views on the ghost theory.
"Goethe says that matter cannot exist without spirit, or spirit without matter. Would you sub-scribe to that, Mr. Hardcastle?"
"Partially. Matter can exist without spirit, which you may prove by getting under an avalanche; but I do most emphatically agree that spirit cannot exist without matter. 'Divorced from matter, where is life?' asks Tyndall, and n.o.body can answer him."
"You misunderstand Goethe," declared Mr. May. "In metaphysics--"
"I have no use for metaphysics. Believe me, the solemn humbug of metaphysics doesn't take in a policeman for a moment. Juggling with words never advanced the world's welfare or helped the cause of truth.
What, for any practical purpose, does it matter how subjectively true a statement may be if it is objectively false? Life is just as real as I am myself--no more and no less--and all the metaphysical jargon in the world won't prevent my shins from bleeding wet, red blood when I bark them against a stone."
"You don't believe in the supernatural then?" asked Mr. May.
"Most emphatically not."
"How extraordinary! And how, if I may ask, do you fill the terrible vacuum in your life that such a denial must create?"
"I have never been conscious of such a vacuum. I was a sceptic from my youth up. No doubt those who were nurtured in superst.i.tion, when reason at last conquers and they break away, may experience a temporary blank; but the wonders of nature and the achievements of man and the demands of the suffering world--these should be enough to fill any blank for a reasonable creature."
"If such are your opinions, you will fail here," declared the clergyman positively.
"Why do you feel so sure of that?"
"Because you are faced with facts that have no material explanation.
They are supernatural, or supernormal, if you prefer the word."
"'One world at a time,' is a very good motto in my judgment," replied Hardcastle. "We will exhaust the possibilities of this world first, sir."
"They have already been exhausted. Only a simple, straightforward question awaits your reply. Do you believe in another world or do you not?"
"In the endless punishment or the endless happiness of men and women after they are dead?"
"If you like to confuse the issue in that way you are at liberty, of course, to do so. As a Christian, I cannot demur. The problem for the rationalist is this: How does he ignore the deeply rooted and universal conviction that there is a life to come? Is such a sanguine a.s.surance planted in the mind of even the lowest savage for nothing? Where did the aborigines win that expectation?"
"My answer embraces the whole question from my own point of view,"
replied Hardcastle. "The savages got their idea of dual personality from phenomena of nature which they were unable to explain--from their dreams, from their own shadows on the earth and reflections in water, from the stroke of the lightning and the crash of the thunder, from the echo of their own voices, thrown back to them from crags and cliffs.
These things created their superst.i.tions. Ignorance bred terror, and terror bred G.o.ds and demons--first out of the forces of nature. That is the appalling mental legacy handed down in varying shapes to all the children of men. We labor under them to this day."
"You would dare to say our most sacred verities have sprung from the dreams of savages?"
Hardcastle smiled.
"It is true. And dreams, we further know, are often the result of indigestion. Early man didn't understand the art of cookery, and therefore no doubt his stomach had a great deal to put up with. We have to thank his bear steaks and wolf chops for a great deal of our cherished nonsense, no doubt."
Sir Walter, marking the clergyman's flashing eyes, changed the subject, and Septimus May, who observed his concern, restrained a bitter answer.
But he despaired of the detective from that moment, and proposed to himself a future a.s.sault on such detested modern opinions when opportunity occurred.
After breakfast Mr. Hardcastle begged for a private interview with the master of Chadlands, and for two hours sat in his study and took him through the case from the beginning.
He put various questions concerning the members of the recent house party, and presently begged that Henry Lennox might join them.
"I should like to hear the account of what pa.s.sed on the night between him and Captain May," he said.
Henry joined them, and detailed his experience. While he talked, Hardcastle appraised him, and perceived that certain nebulous opinions, which had begun to crystallize in his own mind, could have no real foundation. The detective believed that he was confronted with a common murder, and on hearing Henry's history, as part of Sir Walter's story with the rest, perceived that the old lover of Mary Lennox had last seen her husband alive, had drunk with him, and been the first to find him dead. Might not Henry have found an eastern poison in Mesopotamia? But his conversation with the young man, and the unconscious revelation of Henry himself, shattered the idea. Lennox was innocent enough.
For a moment, the information of uncle and nephew exhausted, Hardcastle returned to the matter of the breakfast discussion.
"You will, of course, understand that I am quite satisfied a material and physical explanation exists for this unfortunate event," he said. "I need hardly tell you that I am unprepared to entertain any supernatural theory of the business. I don't believe myself in ghosts, because in my experience, and it is pretty wide, ghost stories break down badly under anything like skilled and independent examination. There is a natural reason for what has happened, as there is a natural reason for everything that happens. We talk of unnatural things happening, but that is a contradiction in terms. Nothing can happen that is not natural.
What we call Nature embraces every conceivable action or event or possibility. We may fail to fathom a mystery, and we know that a thousand things happen every day and night that seem beyond the power of our wits to explain; but that is only to say our wits are limited.
I hold, however, that very few things happen which do not yield an explanation, sooner or later, if approached by those best trained to examine them without predisposition or prejudice. And I earnestly hope that this tragic business will give up its secret."
"May you prove the correctness of your opinions, Mr. Hardcastle,"
answered Sir Walter. "Would you like to see the Grey Room now?"
"I should; though I tell you frankly it is not in the Grey Room that I shall find what I seek. It does not particularly interest me, and for this reason. I do not a.s.sociate Captain May's death in any way with the earlier tragedy--that of the hospital nurse, Mrs. Forrester. It is a coincidence, in my opinion, and probably, if physiology were a more perfect science than, in my experience of post-mortem examinations, it has proved to be, the reason for the lady's death would have appeared.
And, for that matter, the reason for Captain May's death also. To say there was no reason is, of course, absurd. Nothing ever yet happened, or could happen, without a reason. The springs of action were arrested and the machine instantly ran down. But a man is not a clock, which can be stopped and reveal no sign of the thing that stopped it. Life is a far more complex matter than a watch-spring, and if we knew more we might not be faced with so many worthless post-mortem reports. But Sir Howard Fellowes is not often beaten. I repeat, however, I do not a.s.sociate the two deaths in the Grey Room or connect them as the result of one and the same cause. I do not state this as a fact beyond dispute, but that, for the present, is my a.s.sumption. The gap in time seems too considerable.
I suspect other causes, and shall have to make researches into the dead man's past life. I should wish also to examine all his property. He has been in foreign countries, and may have brought back something concerning the nature of which he was ignorant. He may possess enemies, of whom neither you nor Mrs. May have heard anything. Your knowledge of him, recollect, extends over only a short time--eight or ten months, I suppose. I shall visit his ship and his cabin in H. M. S. Indomitable also, and learn all that his fellow officers can tell me."
Sir Walter looked at his watch.
"It is now nearly one o'clock," he said, "and at two we usually take luncheon. What would you wish to do between now and then? None here but ourselves and my butler--an old friend in all my secrets--knows you have come professionally. I concealed the fact and called you 'Forbes,' at your wish, though they cannot fail to suspect, I fear."
"Thank you. I will see the room, then, and look round the place. Perhaps after luncheon, if she feels equal to the task, Mrs. May will give me a private interview. I want to learn everything possible concerning your late son-in-law--his career before Jutland, his philosophy of life, his habits and his friends."
"She will very gladly tell you everything she can."
They ascended to the Grey Room.
"Not the traditional haunt of spooks, certainly," said Peter Hardcastle as they entered the bright and cheerful chamber. The day was clear, and from the southern window unclouded sunshine came.
"Nothing is changed?" he asked.
"Nothing. The room remains as it has been for many years."
"Kindly describe exactly where Captain May was found. Perhaps Mr. Lennox will imitate his posture, if he remembers it?"
"Remember it! I shall never forget it," said Henry. "I first saw him from below. He was looking out of the open window and kneeling here on this seat."
"Let us open the window then."
The situation and att.i.tude of the dead on discovery were imitated, and Hardcastle examined the spot. Then he himself occupied the position and looked out.
"I will ask for a ladder presently, and examine the face of the wall.
Ivy, I see. Ivy has told me some very interesting secrets before to-day, Sir Walter."