e familiar
phrase, they left no stone unturned; and following their report, which
frankly admitted absolute failure, a small commission instituted a
further inquiry on the evidence, and invited those chiefly concerned to
attend it.

Sir Walter, his daughter, Henry Lennox, and Dr. Mannering were examined
with sympathy and consideration. But they could offer no opinions,
throw no light, and suggest no other lines of inquiry than those already
pursued.

For the world the mystery died like a new star, which was blazed into
fame only to retreat or diminish and disappear once more. Fresh problems
and new sensations filled the newspapers, and a time at last came when,
to his relief, Sir Walter could open his morning journal and find no
mention of Chadlands therein. Architects examined the room a second
time, and the authorities also gave permission to certain notable
spiritualists to make further nocturnal and diurnal vigils therein,
though no solitary watcher was permitted. Three came and passed a day
and a night in the Grey Room. They were rewarded with no phenomena
whatever.

The master of Chadlands was at length informed that he might leave
England, but directed to set a seal on the Grey Room, and to treat it in
such a manner that it should no longer be capable of entrance.

The red tape that had wound itself about the tragedy was thus unloosed
at last, and the suffering pair made all haste to get away. Its owner
undertook to treat the Grey Room as directed on his return from abroad,
and meanwhile had both door and window boarded up with heavy timbers.

The household was long since restored to self-possession and even
cheerfulness. Some felt pride in their passing publicity, and none
expressed any fear of remaining. But Sir Walter guessed that few feet
would tread the great corridor until a day was near for his return.

CHAPTER X. SIGNOR VERGILIO MANNETTI.

Sir Walter persisted in his purpose
and went to Florence. He believed that here Mary might find distractions
and novelties to awaken interest which would come freshly into her life
without the pain and poignancy of any recollection to lessen the work
of peace. For himself he only desired to see her returning to content.
Happiness he knew must be a condition far removed from her spirit for
many days.

They stood one evening on the Piazza of Michelangelo and saw Florence,
like a city of dim, red gold extended beneath them. The setting sunlight
wove an enc