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Page 3
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO?
The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time,
scanning machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty
free copyright licenses, and every other sort of contribution
you can think of. Money should be paid to "Project Gutenberg
Association / Carnegie-Mellon University".
*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*
THE GREY ROOM
by Eden Phillpotts
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I. THE HOUSE PARTY
II. AN EXPERIMENT
III. AT THE ORIEL
IV. "BY THE HAND OF GOD"
V. THE UNSEEN MOVES
VI. THE ORDER FROM LONDON
VII. THE FANATIC
VIII. THE LABORS OF THE FOUR
IX. THE NIGHT WATCH
X. SIGNOR VERGILIO MANNETTI
XI. PRINCE DJEM
XII. THE GOLDEN BULL
XIII. TWO NOTES
CHAPTER I
THE HOUSE PARTY
The piers of the main entrance of Chadlands were of red brick, and
upon each reposed a mighty sphere of grey granite. Behind them
stretched away the park, where forest trees, nearly shorn of their
leaves at the edge of winter, still answered the setting sun with
fires of thinning foliage. They sank away through stretches of
brake fern, and already amid their trunks arose a thin, blue
haze--breath of earth made visible by coming cold. There was frost
in the air, and the sickle of a new moon hung where dusk of evening
dimmed the green of the western sky.
The guns were returning, and eight men with three women arrived at
the lofty gates. One of the party rode a grey pony, and a woman
walked on each side of him. They chattered together, and the
little company of tweed-clad people passed into Chadlands Park and
trudged forward, where the manor house rose half a mile ahead.
Then an old man emerged from a lodge, hidden behind a grove of
laurel and bay within the entrance, and shut the great gates of
scroll iron. They were of a flamboyant Italian period, and more
arrestive than distinguished. Panelled upon them, and belonging
to a later day than they, had been imposed two iron coats of arms,
with crest above and motto beneath--the heraldic bearings of the
present owner of Chadlands. He set store upon such things, but
was not responsible for the work. A survival himself, and steeped
in ancient opinions, his coat, won in a forgotten age, interested
him only less than his Mutiny medal--his sole personal claim to
public honor. He had served in youth as a soldier, but was still
a subaltern when his father died and he came into his kingdom.
Now, Sir Walter Lennox, fifth baronet, had grown old, and his
invincible kindness of heart, his archaic principles, his great
wealth, and the limited experiences of reality, for which such
wealth was responsible, left him a popular and respected man. Yet
he aroused much exasperation in local landowners from his
generosity and scorn of all economic principles; and while his
tenants held him the very exemplar of a landlord, and his servants
worshipped him for the best possible reasons, his friends, weary
of remonstrance, were forced to forgive his bad precedents and a
mistaken liberality quite beyond the power of the average
unfortunate who lives by his land. But he managed his great manor
in his own lavish way, and marvelled that other men declared
difficulties with problems he so readily solved. That night, after
a little music, the Chadlands' house party drifted to
the billiard-room, and while most of the men, after a heavy day
far afield, were content to lounge by a great open hearth where a
wood fire burned, Sir Walter, who had been on a pony most of the
time, declared himself unwearied, and demanded a game.
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