stepped into the armour, sliding my right arm into its metal counterpart as I did so. The suit closed around me, and I was plunged into absolute darkness.
‘There was very little air, even at first, and it soon grew stiflingly hot. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I became aware of a faint glimmer, and discovered that by standing upon tiptoe I could see, through the slits in the visor, the glow of my uncle’s candle – at least, I assumed it was my uncle – moving around the room. Once it paused directly in front of me – even on tiptoe I could only see upward – and I waited for what seemed like minutes for the plates to spring open. At last the light retreated, and then vanished in a muffled clatter of locks and bolts. But I dared not move immediately. As the silence returned, I was seized by a creeping, mortal dread, coiled around the words I had just copied: “For as a young
Tree
may be grafted upon an
Old
. . .” I imagined black clouds boiling up above the Hall ...
‘But enough of that. I mention it only to explain why, when I at lastemerged from that suffocating confinement, I thought only of escape. Suffice to say that the descent proved even more precarious than the climb, and that I reached the ground a good deal scraped and bloodied. My uncle did not, to my relief, come in search of me the next morning. I thought of taking Drayton into my confidence, but I doubted his ability to conceal anything from his master and so I confined myself to saying that I was worried about my uncle’s health. Drayton has promised to wire me in London if anything untoward occurs.
‘Which brings me, at last, to the purpose of my visit. As you may know, I have a particular interest in heart disease, and am often called away from town when an opinion is wanted. So I can’t always be found at short notice, in which case Drayton would of course come straight to you. But beyond acquainting you with the situation, I wonder – though perhaps, as my uncle’s representative, you may think it improper to advise me – whether you can suggest any legal means by which we might forestall disaster, rather than simply waiting – the phrase comes all too aptly – for the storm to break.’
The fire had burned low; I vaguely recalled having heard Josiah depart some time ago.
‘I don’t think it at all improper,’ I said as I refilled our glasses, ‘to advise you, given the extraordinary circumstances. But the only course that suggests itself is the very drastic one of committing him to an asylum; and of course the risk from your point of view is that if the attempt didn’t succeed he might very well take his revenge by disinheriting you. Do you think that two of your colleagues – as the prospective heir, you couldn’t very well be party to it yourself – would be likely to sign a certificate?’
‘I’m not at all certain they would,’ he replied. ‘We can’t prove that he means to use the armour for any sinister purpose; he could plausibly claim to be engaged in a scientific investigation into the effects of lightning. As for his demand that no one enter his domain for three days after he (presumably) ceases to answer his door; supposing he does put that in writing, am I legally bound either to abide by it, or lose the estate?’
‘If he brought such a provision to me,’ I said, after thinking it over for some time, ‘I would refuse to write it into the will, because it’s contradictory. A will has no force until proven; it can’t be proven until the testator is dead; you can’t know whether he’s dead or not until you enter the gallery, which he wants to forbid you to do; but if you believe he’s ill or dying, you have a moral duty – which the law would certainly recognise – to go to his assistance. The risk you face, of course, is that if you break in and he
isn’t
dead, he could well carry out his threat to disinherit you. In fact ... supposing Drayton came to me, and said that he was anxious about your
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