CHAPTER XIII
LORD MALVIN
If Sir William Gouldesbrough represented all that was most brilliant,modern, and daring in the scientific world of Europe, Lord Malvin stoodas its official figure-head. He was the "grand old man" of science, andwas regarded by every one as a final court of appeal in all suchmatters.
He was of a great age, almost eighty, in fact, yet his health wasperfect, his intellect unimpaired, and his interest in human events askeen and vigorous as that of a man but half his age and in the fullprime and meridian of life.
In science, he represented what the President of the Royal Academyrepresents in art, or the Lord Chief Justice in the law, and although hehad almost ceased independent investigations, he was always appealed toand consulted when anything new and revolutionary in science wasdiscovered or promulgated by any of the younger men.
The younger men themselves, while allowing their chief's vast knowledgeand experience, his real and undeniable eminence, were apt to call himconservative, and to hint that he was of an alien generation. They wouldsay that his judgment was sometimes obscured by his veneration and lovefor the past, and because he found himself unable to leap so rapidly toconclusions as they did, they put him down as an old fogey who had donevaluable and remarkable work in his time, but who ought to be contentwith his peerage and immense fortune and retire to the planting ofcabbages or the growing of roses in the country.
In the public eye, nevertheless, Lord Malvin remained as familiar andnecessary a part of the English landscape as St. Paul's; and, whenever agreat man died and the newspapers enumerated the few remaining veteransof the Commonwealth, Lord Malvin was usually the first to be mentioned.
For many years there had been an antagonism between Lord Malvin and SirWilliam Gouldesbrough. It was not personal so much as scientific, anabstract and intellectual antagonism. When Sir William's star firstbegan to rise above the horizon--he was only Mr. Gouldesbroughthen--Lord Malvin had recognized his talent as an inventor, butdeprecated many of his theories. These ideas, these possibilities forthe future which Gouldesbrough was fond of giving to the world inlectures and reviews, seemed horribly dangerous, subversive, andfantastic to the older man.
He said so in no uncertain voice, and for some years, though he wasalways kind and civil to Gouldesbrough, he certainly did much todiscount the rising star's power of illumination.
But as time went on, each daring theory put forth by Gouldesbroughpassed into the realm of actual fact. Lord Malvin saw that Sir Williamhad been almost invariably right. He saw that the new man not only toldthe world that some day this or that marvel would come to pass, butimmediately afterwards set to work and himself made it come to pass!
Lord Malvin was a noble man as well as a nobleman--sometimes a rarecombination to-day--and he confessed himself in the wrong. Directly hesaw that he had been mistaken, and that Sir William was no charlatan,but one of the most daring and brilliant scientists the world had everknown, the peer gave the newer man all the weight of his support.Nevertheless, while forced by circumstance and Gouldesbrough'sjustification of his own ideas into a scientific brotherhood, LordMalvin, who constantly met the other, found a new problem confrontinghim.
While he had not believed in Gouldesbrough's theories, Lord Malvin hadrather liked him personally.
Now that he was compelled to believe in Gouldesbrough's theories, LordMalvin found that he experienced a growing dislike for the man himself.And as he was a fair and honourable man, Lord Malvin did everything hepossibly could to rid himself of this prejudice, with the result thatwhile his efforts to do so were quite unavailing, he redoubled hiskindness and attentions to the man he disliked.
All the scientific world knew that Sir William was perfecting somemarvellous discovery. In Berlin, Paris, Petersburg, Vienna, and BudaPesth, learned savants were writing to their _confreres_ in London toknow what this might be. The excitement was intense, the rumours wereendless, and it is not too much to say that the whole scientificintellect of the globe was roused and waiting.
Now when a number of leading brains are agitated upon one subject,something of that agitation begins to stir and move in the outsideworld.
Already some hints had got about, and the press of Europe and Americawas scenting some extraordinary news.
The whole business had at length culminated in the giving of a greatreception by Lord Malvin.
Everybody who mattered was asked, not only in the scientific but also inthe general world.
And everybody knew, that not only was the reception given in Sir WilliamGouldesbrough's honour, but that he would say something more or lessdefinite about what he had in hand.
In short, a pronouncement was to be made, and the ears of every one weretingling to hear it.
Among the idle and frivolous section of society the promised revelationhad become the topic of the hour. Everything else was quite forgotten.Gerald Rathbone's disappearance was already a thing of the past. EustaceCharliewood's suicide had not lasted for the proverbial nine days as asubject of talk. But here was something _quite_ new! Something all themore attractive because of its mystery.
Some people said that Sir William had invented a way in which any onemight become invisible for a few pence.
This suggested delightful possibilities to every one, save only thenewly rich, whose whole endeavour was to be seen.
On the other hand there was a considerable section of people whoasserted that Sir William had succeeded in supplying the lesion in thebrain of the ape, and that now that intelligent animal would be able totalk, own property, and become recognized as a British citizen. Everyone began to read the _Jungle Book_ again, and a serious proposal wasmade in an Imperialistic Journal that England might thus colonize andsecure the unexplored forests of Central Africa, by means of drillingand civilizing the monkeys of the interior.
A Gorilla-General was to be appointed, who should know the Englishlanguage, but no other, and it was thought that by this means theBritish dominions and population would be enormously increased. The"Smart Set" especially welcomed this recruitment of their numbers.
In city circles both these conjectures were scouted.
The well-informed insisted that Sir William had discovered a method ofsolidifying alcohol, so that in future one would buy one's whiskey inchunks, and one's champagne in sticks like barley sugar.
Lord Malvin lived in Portland Place, in one of those great stone houseswhich, however sombre without, are generally most pleasant andattractive within. He was unmarried, and his niece Dorothea Backhouseacted as hostess and generally controlled his domestic affairs.
The stately rooms were crowded with well-known people of all sorts andconditions. Yet this assembly differed from others in a marked manner.All the society people who lived solely for amusement had been invited,and were there. But mingled with the butterflies, one saw the ants andbees. By the carefully groomed, and not ill-looking face of a young andfashionable man about town, could be seen the domed forehead, and theface gashed and scored with thought, of some great savant or deepthinker.
It was indeed an unusual assemblage that passed through the large andbrilliant rooms, laughing and talking. In the blue drawing-room, Kubelikhad just arrived and was beginning to play. Every one crushed in to hearthe young maestro. Melba was to sing a song, perhaps two, later on inthe evening, and the ball-room was filled with supper-tables.
In so much Lord Malvin's party did not differ in any way from that ofany other famous and wealthy London host. There was the same light andsparkle of jewels. The warm air was laden with perfume, the samebeautiful and tired faces moved gracefully among all this luxury. Butthe men and women who worked and thought for the world were in thisPortland Place palace also. They talked together in eager and animatedgroups, they paid little or no attention to this or that delight whichhad been provided for them. All these things were phantoms and unreal tothese people. The real things were taking place within the brain as theyconversed together. The army of intellect was massing within the
citadelof thought, to wrest new territory from the old queen nature, mistressof the kingdom of the unknown.
Lord Malvin and his niece had received their guests at the head of thegrand staircase. Now, when almost every one had arrived, the greatscientist had withdrawn to an inner room at the end of a long series ofapartments, and stood there talking with a small knot of friends.
This inner drawing-room was the culminating part of the suite, thethrone room as it were; and the people standing there could look down along and crowded vista of light and movement, while the yearning andsobbing of Kubelik's violin came to their ears in gusts and throbs ofdelicious sound.
Lord Malvin, a tall, upright old man with a long white beard, a highwhite brow beneath his velvet skull-cap, and wearing a row of orders,was talking to Sir Harold Oliver. Sir Harold was the principal of agreat Northern University, a slim, hard-faced man of middle age, and thepioneer in the movement which was allowing a place to both philosophyand psychology in modern science.
A third person stood there also, a youngish man of middle height, Mr.Donald Megbie, the well-known journalist and writer on social andreligious matters. Donald Megbie held rather a curious position in theliterary world. He was the friend of many great people, and more oftenthan not his pen was the vehicle chosen by them to first introducetheir ideas and discoveries to the general public. When it was time tolet the man in the street know of some stupendous discovery, Megbie wascalled in, and his articles, always brilliant and interesting, explainedthe matter in popular terms for the non-technical mind.
"So Gouldesbrough has not yet come?" Sir Harold Oliver said.
"Not yet," Lord Malvin answered. "I have had a telegram from him,however, to say that he is compelled to be rather later than he hadexpected. I have told the butler to wait in the hall for him, and tobring him straight through here directly he arrives."
"A remarkable man," said Mr. Megbie, in that low and pleasant voicewhich had become so familiar in high places--even in the private roomsof cabinet ministers it was said--during the last few years.
"A man none of us can afford to ignore," Sir Harold answered with aslight sigh of impatience.
Megbie smiled.
"My dear Donald," Sir Harold went on, "please don't smile in thatsuperior sort of manner. I know what you are thinking. You're thinking'how these scientists love one another.' You are accusing me of envy,jealousy and uncharitableness. I'm not jealous of Gouldesbrough, greatas his attainments are, and I'm sure I don't envy him."
"Any one might be forgiven a little envy on such an occasion as this,"Megbie answered. "I confess that if I thought every one of importance inLondon were met together in Lord Malvin's house to welcome _me_, to hearwhat _I_ was going to do next, I should be rather more than pleased."
Lord Malvin smiled kindly, but the noble old face grew sad for a moment.
"Ah!" he said, "you are young, Mr. Megbie. I thought as you think when Iwas your age. But one finds out the utter worthlessness of fame andapplause and so on, as one grows older. The work itself is the thing!Yes! There, and therein only, lies the reward. All else is vain andhollow. I am a very old man, and I am near my end. I suppose I may saythat such honours as can be given have fallen to my share. Yet I canhonestly say that I would give them all up, I would efface myselfutterly if I thought that I was on the brink of the discovery which Ibelieve William Gouldesbrough has made and will tell us something ofto-night!"
The other two started. A deep note of seriousness had come into thevoice of the venerable old man. It portended something, something vastand far-reaching, and they all stood silent for a moment occupied withtheir own thoughts.
The distant music of piano and violin rose higher and higher in keenvibrating melody. There was a note of triumph in it which seemed toaccentuate the gravity and importance of Lord Malvin's words. Thetriumphant notes of the man who was coming were singing and ringingthrough the halls and chambers of this great house!
The music ceased suddenly, and there was a great clapping of hands.
At that moment the three men waiting in the inner room saw a tall, blackfigure moving towards them, the figure of a man on whom people werebeginning to press and converge, a figure that smiled, bowed, stoppedcontinually to shake hands and receive greetings, and made a slowprogress towards them.
Sir William Gouldesbrough, the man of the future, radiant, honoured andsuccessful, was arriving to greet Lord Malvin, the man of the past.