The Man Who Ended War. Godfrey Hollis

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “There’s just a chance that I may have a scoop, and if you’ll take me up there to-night I’ll let you in.”

      “I’ll take you up there,” said John, “but you can have your scoop to yourself. For the last word of copy I ever write will be in print before we call.”

      That afternoon came an unexpected Cabinet change. For hours I interviewed, and wrote, telephoned and telegraphed, reaching my room at half after eight, to find John just ready to leave without me. He had written the story of the man who was to stop all war, only to see it killed by more important news. His experience had been that of every man in the secretary’s office, a common fate in the crowding rush of newspaper life. I had never seen John more distrait than that night, and we walked up to the Hartnells’ in utter silence.

      I so completely expected, despite John’s assurances, to find a stooping, bespectacled student type inside the Hartnells’ door, that the girl who rose as I entered gave me a sudden shock of amazement and delight. She was the sunniest, daintiest type of American girl you could meet the country through. Her mobile face was lit with glowing life and interest in the world around. Her fine firm form showed no trace of scholastic life. Her laugh was like rippling water. Her eyes held the fine deep beauty of a summer’s night. With her was a dark and clear-cut Southerner who was introduced to me as Richard Regnier. The talk went hither and thither until John broached my search for radium.

      “What is your need of radium, Mr. Orrington?” said Miss Haldane.

      I hesitated for a moment and John broke in. “Don’t be afraid of Regnier, Jim. He’s no newspaper man. He’s a reformer like myself. We’re co-members of the Tuberculosis League and the Civic League and the Peace Society. Now what’s up? You haven’t told me yet.”

      So urged, I told the story of the morning and brought forth the heavy parchment which I had retrieved from the waste basket. Regnier sat immobile during the whole tale, though Dorothy broke into it with pointed questions a dozen times.

      “That’s what I want the radium for,” I said in ending.

      “But what has radium to do with that letter?” asked John.

      “Just this,” I replied. “As you may have seen, I held that letter to the light under a reading glass, which acted as a burning glass, for some minutes. I was looking for invisible ink, which could be brought out by heating. I didn’t find any, but as I turned away, the paper came for a moment into the shadow and I saw a slight gleam like the glimmer of phosphorescence on water. Now last year I met an old scientist, Von Meyren, who happened to mention that he had found that certain inks which had been used for parchments in olden times held a substance which becomes phosphorescent when exposed to radium. He got a second letter in that way once, from beneath a message one of the Popes sent to a king of France. You see parchment was and is expensive, and hard to get. They used the same piece over and over again, removing the old inks by scraping or dissolving. Somehow the radium brought out the stuff that had been apparently removed. When Reid said ‘Papal Bulls’ it gave me an idea. It is barely possible that the man who wrote the letter might have written something on that piece of parchment before and then erased it. I thought I’d try radium on the chance. There may be nothing in it, but it will do no harm, will it, Miss Haldane?”

      “Oh, no,” said Miss Haldane. “I have some of my brother’s radium right here. I’ll bring it down and we’ll expose the letter to it.”

      A moment later she returned, this time with her cousin Mrs. Hartnell. “Now we will darken the room,” she said, holding out a small lead case with hinged cover, “and try this wonder worker. But you must not move from your places. If you get in the way of the rays, you are likely to be badly burned.”

      We were grouped in a semi-circle before a bared table whereon was placed the open letter in a holder, confronted with the leaden casket. I was given the place of honor, directly in front, and Miss Haldane put her chair beside mine. Carefully she opened the hinged door in the front of the radium holder, stepped to the switch, threw off the electric light, and came to sit beside me.

      We waited in perfect silence, our eyes bent on the blackness before us. I could hear her regular breathing, I could feel the brush of her skirt as she leaned forward, and I forgot all else, – the noise of the city without, the audience within, both disappeared from my consciousness. There was but a vast rolling ocean of blackness, and she and I, bound by a swiftly tightening chain, were being dragged closer and closer together. Old Von Meyren’s pet saying, “Love! Pah! What is it but an excess of positive electrons in a certain man, urging him towards the negative electrons in a certain woman?” kept ringing in my ears, the while I indignantly refuted it. Again and again it persisted, and with it came the thought that the waves from the radium were the chain which bound us.

      I had forgotten the letter utterly when suddenly I heard a slight catch in the regular breathing beside me, and a soft warm hand, raised swiftly, brushed mine for a moment as it was raised. The sharp thrill shook me into consciousness. I looked before me, and there, glimmering into light, a single curve came from the darkness, then a straight line, then appeared a large U. One by one letters filled out, whole words appeared, – “United States” first, “July” second, and a single capital “I” next. Word after word appeared. Half lines filled into sentences. I could hear behind me a quick, almost sobbing breath that half penetrated my mind, but leaning forward close beside was Miss Haldane. At last in a clear low voice she began to read, “I, the man who will stop all war, hereby declare that I will destroy one battleship of the United States during the first week of July, 19 – , one battleship of England during the second week of July, 19 – , one battleship of France during the third week of July, 19 – , one battleship of Germany during the fourth week of July, 19 – . I shall follow that destruction by sinking, in regular order, one battleship of each of the other great powers. May the Lord have mercy on the souls of them who suffer for the cause of peace!”

      She stopped and we waited, watching the glowing signal for what seemed hours, for what was minutes. No more appeared, though the brightness of the words of the second message did not dim. At last Miss Haldane rose and with a quick movement turned on the lights and shut the cover. The letter returned to its former appearance. I sat blinking. Regnier still sat immobile. John held his face in his hands. Mrs. Hartnell sat with closed eyes.

      “Do you believe it?” I asked Miss Haldane quickly.

      She nodded gravely. “It’s what he means to do,” she said. “He wrote it that way first, and then erased it and made it general afterwards.”

      “I don’t believe it,” said Mrs. Hartnell, sharply. “It’s impossible.”

      “It certainly doesn’t seem probable,” said John, at last raising his face. Regnier alone did not speak.

      For a moment we were silent, each busy with the thoughts the message had roused within him. At last I rose with an effort. “Good-night, Miss Haldane,” I said, “I thank you for your help.”

      “I am very glad you brought the letter to me,” she said simply, “I am going back to New York to-morrow so I cannot ask you to call upon me here, but if you are in New York won’t you come and see me and give me any news you may have of this threatening peril?”

      “I shall be only too glad to do so,” I responded, my heart bounding. I had reached the door when Miss Haldane called after me. “Oh, Mr. Orrington, would you be willing to let me have the letter? I should like to show it to my brother. I’ll send it to you any time you wish.”

      “Certainly you may have it,” I replied, and I handed her the parchment.

      Regnier left the house with John and me. We СКАЧАТЬ