the grey room(灰房间)-第7章
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by the bed； and locked the door again from inside。 He rolled up his
dressing…gown for a pillow； and placed his watch and revolver and candle
at his hand on a chair。 A few broken reflections drifted through his mind；
as he yawned and prepared to sleep。 His brain brought up events of the
day … a missed shot； a good shot； lunch under a haystack with Mary and
Fayre…Michell's niece。 She was smart and slowy and slangy … cheap
every way compared with Mary。 What would his wife think if she knew
he was so near？ Come to him for certain。 He cordially hoped that he
might not be recalled to his ship； but there was a possibility of it。 It
would be rather a lark to show the governor over the Indomitable。 She
was a 〃hush…hush〃 ship … one of the wonders of the Navy still。 Funny
that the Italian roof of the Grey Room looked like a dome； thought it was
really flat。 A cunning trick of perspective。
It was a still and silent night； moonless； very dark； and very tranquil。
He went to the window to throw it open。
Only a solitary being waked long that night at Chadlands； and only a
solitary mind suffered tribulation。 But into the small hours Henry
Lennox endured the companionship of disquiet thoughts。 He could not
sleep； and his brain； clear enough； retraced no passage from the past day。
Indeed the events of the day had sunk into remote time。 He was only
concerned with the present； and he wondered while he worried that he
should be worrying。 Yet a proleptic instinct made him look forward。
He had neither lied nor exaggerated to May。 From the moment of losing
the toss； he honestly experienced a strong； subjective impression of danger
arising out of the proposed attack on the mysteries of the Grey Room。 It
was； indeed； that consciousness of greater possibilities in the adventure
than May admitted or imagined which made Lennox so insistent。 Looking
back； he perceived many things； and chiefly that he had taken a wrong line；
and approached Mary's husband from a fatal angle。 Too late he
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recognized his error。 It was inevitable that a hint of suspected danger
would confirm the sailor in his resolution； and that such a hint should
follow the spin of the coin against Lennox； and be accompanied by the
assurance that； had he won； Henry would have proceeded； despite his
intuitions； to do what he now begged Tom not to do … that was a piece of
clumsy work which he deeply regretted。
At the hour when his own physical forces were lowest； his errors of
diplomacy forced themselves upon his mind。 He wasted much time； as
all men do upon their beds； in anticipating to…morrow； in considering what
is going to happen； or what is not； in weighing their own future words and
deeds given a variety of contingencies。 For reason； which at first kept him；
despite his disquiet； in the region of the rational； grew weaker with Henry
as the night advanced； the shadow of trouble deepened as his weary wits
lost their balance to combat it。 The premonition was as formless and
amorphous as a cloud； and； though he could not see any shape to his fear；
or define its limitations； it grew darker ere he slept。 He considered what
might happen and； putting aside any lesser disaster； tried to imagine what
the morning would bring if May actually succumbed。
For the moment the size of such an imaginary disaster served curiously
to lessen his uneasiness。 Pushed to extremities； the idea became merely
absurd。 He won a sort of comfort from such an outrageous proposition；
because it brought him back to the solid ground of reason and the
assurance that some things simply do not happen。 From this extravagant
summit of horror； his fears gradually receded。 Such a waking nightmare
even quieted his nerves when it was past； for if a possibility presents a
ludicrous side； then its horror must diminish by so much。 Moreover；
Henry told himself that if the threat of a disaster so absolute could really
be felt by him； it was his duty to rise at once； intervene； and； if necessary；
summon his uncle and force May to leave the Grey Room immediately。
This idea amused him again and offered another jest。 The tragedy
really resolved into jests。 He found himself smiling at the picture of May
being treated like a disobedient schoolboy。 But if that happened； and
Tom was proclaimed the sinner； what must be Henry's own fate？ To win
the reputation of an unsportsmanlike sneak in Mary's opinion as well as
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Tom's。 He certainly could call upon nobody to help him now。 But he
might go and look up May himself。 That would be very sharply resented；
however。 He travelled round and round in circles； then asked himself
what he would do and say to…morrow if anything happened to Tom …
nothing； of course； fatal； but something perhaps so grave that May himself
would be unable to explain it。 In that case Henry could only state facts
exactly as they had occurred。 But there would be a deuce of a muddle if
he had to make statements and describe the exact sequence of recent
incidents。 Already he forgot the exact sequence。 It seemed ages since he
parted from May。 He broke off there； rose； drank a glass of water； and
lighted a cigarette。 He shook himself into wakefulness； condemned
himself for this debauch of weak…minded thinking； found the time to be
three o'clock； and brushed the whole cobweb tangle from his mind。 He
knew that sudden warmth after cold will often induce sleep … a fact proved
by incidents of his campaigns … so he trudged up and down and opened his
window and let the cool breath of the night chill his forehead and breast
for five minutes。
This action calmed him； and he headed himself off from returning to
the subject。 He felt that mental dread and discomfort were only waiting
to break out again； but he smothered them； returned to bed； and succeeded
in keeping his mind on neutral … tinted matter until he fell asleep。
He woke again before he was called； rose and went to his bath。 He
took it cold； and it refreshed him and cleared his head； for he had a
headache。 Everything was changed； and the phantoms of his imagination
remained only as memories to be laughed at。 He no longer felt alarm or
anxiety。 He dressed presently； and guessing that Tom； always the first to
rise； might already be out of doors； he strolled on to the terrace presently
to meet him there。
Already he speculated whether an apology was due from him to May；
or whether he might himself expect one。 It didn't matter。 He knew
perfectly well that Tom was all right now； and that was the only thing that
signified。
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CHAPTER III
AT THE ORIEL
Chadlands sprang into existence when the manor houses of England …
save for the persistence of occasional embattled parapets and other warlike
survivals of unrestful days now past … had obeyed the laws of architectural
evolution； and begun to approach a future of cleanliness and comfort；
rising to luxury hitherto unknown。 The development of this ancient mass
was displayed in plan as much as in elevation； and； at its date； the great
mansion had stood for the last word of perfection； when men thought on
large lines and the conditions of labour made possible achievements now
seldom within the power of a private purse。 Much had since been done；
but the main architectural features were preserved； though the interior of
the great house was transformed。
The manor of Chadlands extended to some fifty thousand acres lying
in a river valley between the heights of Haldon on the east and the
frontiers of Dartmoor westerly。 The little township was connected by a
branch with the Great Western Railway； and the station lay five miles from
the manor house。 No more perfect parklands； albeit on a modest scale；
existed in South Devon； and the views of the surrounding heights and
great vale opening from the estate caused pleasure alike to those contented
with obvious beauty and the small number of spectators who understood
the significance of what constitutes really distinguished landscape。
Eastward； long slopes of herbage and drifts of azaleas…a glorious
harmony of gold； scarlet； and orange in June…sloped upwards to larch
woods； while the gardens of pleasure； watered by a little trout stream；
spread beneath the manor house； and behind it rose hot…houses and the
glass and walled gardens of fruit and vegetables。 To the south and west
opened park and vale； where receded forest and fallow lands； until the
grey ramparts of the moor ascending beyond them hemmed in the picture。
Sir Walter Lennox had devoted himself to the sporting side of the
estate and had made it famous in this respect。 His father； less interested
in shooting and hunting； had devoted time and means to the flower
gardens； and rendered them as rich as was possible in his day； while
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earlier yet； Sir Walter's grandfather had been more concerned for the
interior； and had done much to enrich and beautify it。
A great terrace stretched betw
