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Page 10
Sir Walter became pensive, and did not proceed for the space of a
minute. None, however, spoke until he had again done so:
"That is the story of what is called our haunted room, so far as
this generation is concerned. What grounds for its sinister
reputation existed in the far past I know not--only a vague, oral
tradition came to my father from his, and it is certain that neither
of them attached any personal importance to it. But after such a
peculiar and unfortunate tragedy, you will not be surprised that I
regarded the chamber as ruled out from my domiciliary scheme, and
denied it to any future guests."
"Do you really associate the lady's death with the room, Walter?"
asked Mr. Travers.
"Honestly I do not, Ernest. And for this reason: I deny that any
malignant, spiritual personality would ever be permitted by the
Creator to exercise physical powers over the living, or destroy
human beings without reason or justice. The horror of such a
possibility to the normal mind is sufficient argument against it.
Causes beyond our apparent knowledge were responsible for the death
of Nurse Forrester; but who shall presume to say that was really so?
Why imagine anything so irregular? I prefer to think that had the
post-mortem been conducted by somebody else, subtle reasons for her
death might have appeared. Science is fallible, and even specialists
make outrageous mistakes."
"You believe she died from natural causes beyond the skill of those
particular surgeons to discover?" asked Colonel Vane.
"That is my opinion. Needless to say, I should not tell Mannering
so. But to what other conclusion can a reasonable man come? I do
not, of course, deny the supernatural, but it is weak-minded to
fall back upon it as the line of least resistance."
Then Fayre-Michell repeated his question. He had listened with
intense interest to the story.
"Would you deny that ghosts, so to call them, can be associated
with one particular spot, to the discomfort and even loss of
reason, or life, of those that may be in that spot at the
psychological moment, Sir Walter?"
"Emphatically I would deny it," declared the elder. "However
tragic the circumstances that might have befallen an unfortunate
being in life at any particular place, it is, in my opinion,
monstrous to suppose his disembodied spirit will hereafter be
associated with the place. We must be reasonable, Felix. Shall
the God Who gave us reason be Himself unreasonable?"
"And yet there are authentic--However, I admit the weight of your
argument."
"At the same time," ventured Mr. Travers, "none can deny that many
strange and terrible things happen, from hidden causes quite beyond
human power to explain."
"They do, Ernest; and so I lock up my Grey Room and rule it out of
our scheme of existence. At present it is full of lumber--old
furniture and a pack of rubbishy family portraits that only deserve
to be burned, but will some day be restored, I suppose."
"Not on my account, Uncle Walter," said Henry Lennox. "I have no
more respect for them than yourself. They are hopeless as art."
"No, no one must restore them. The art is I believe very bad, as
you say, but they were most worthy people, and this is the sole
memorial remaining of them."
"Do let us see the room, governor," urged Tom May. "Mary showed
it to me the first time I came here, and I thought it about the
jolliest spot in the house."
"So it is, Tom," said Henry. "Mary says it should be called the
Rose Room, not the grey one."
"All who care to do so can see it," answered Sir Walter, rising.
"We will look in on our way to bed. Get the key from my key-cabinet
in the study, Henry. It's labelled 'Grey Room.'"
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