Sir Walter became pensive, and did not proceed for the space of a minute.  None, however, spoke until he had again done so: 

“That is the story of what is called our haunted room, so far as this generation is concerned.  What grounds for its sinister reputation existed in the far past I know not—­only a vague, oral tradition came to my father from his, and it is certain that neither of them attached any personal importance to it.  But after such a peculiar and unfortunate tragedy, you will not be surprised that I regarded the chamber as ruled out from my domiciliary scheme, and denied it to any future guests.”

“Do you really associate the lady’s death with the room, Walter?” asked Mr. Travers.

“Honestly I do not, Ernest.  And for this reason:  I deny that any malignant, spiritual personality would ever be permitted by the Creator to exercise physical powers over the living, or destroy human beings without reason or justice.  The horror of such a possibility to the normal mind is sufficient argument against it.  Causes beyond our apparent knowledge were responsible for the death of Nurse Forrester; but who shall presume to say that was really so?  Why imagine anything so irregular?  I prefer to think that had the post-mortem been conducted by somebody else, subtle reasons for her death might have appeared.  Science is fallible, and even specialists make outrageous mistakes.”

“You believe she died from natural causes beyond the skill of those particular surgeons to discover?” asked Colonel Vane.

“That is my opinion.  Needless to say, I should not tell Mannering so.  But to what other conclusion can a reasonable man come?  I do not, of course, deny the supernatural, but it is weak-minded to fall back upon it as the line of least resistance.”

Then Fayre-Michell repeated his question.  He had listened with intense interest to the story.

“Would you deny that ghosts, so to call them, can be associated with one particular spot, to the discomfort and even loss of reason, or life, of those that may be in that spot at the psychological moment, Sir Walter?”

“Emphatically I would deny it,” declared the elder.  “However tragic the circumstances that might have befallen an unfortunate being in life at any particular place, it is, in my opinion, monstrous to suppose his disembodied spirit will hereafter be associated with the place.  We must be reasonable, Felix.  Shall the God Who gave us reason be Himself unreasonable?”

“And yet there are authentic—­However, I admit the weight of your argument.”

“At the same time,” ventured Mr. Travers, “none can deny that many strange and terrible things happen, from hidden causes quite beyond human power to explain.”

“They do, Ernest; and so I lock up my Grey Room and rule it out of our scheme of existence.  At present it is full of lumber—­old furniture and a pack of rubbishy family portraits that only deserve to be burned, but will some day be restored, I suppose.”