The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1903-08-19
THE EPISODE
in ROOM 222
BY ARNOLD BENNETT
Copyright, 1919, by 4, c. Mcclure


of the Grand Junction Terminus hotel.
The Grand Junction is full every
night in the week except Friday, Sat.
urday and Sunday. Every commercial
traveller knows that, except ON these
nights, If he wishes to secure n room
he must write or telegraph for ii In adj
vance. And there are 100 bedrooms
1t was somewhat late in the evening
when | arrived in l.. On the spur
of the moment decided to stay mt the
Grand Junction if there was space for
me. II is thus that fate works
walked into the hail. followed by
platform porter with my bag The
place seemed just us usual. the pcrfcc
ton of the commonplace, the business.
like and the unspiritual
''lIave you ROOM" | asked the
young Indy in black whose yellow hail
shonc gayly ut the office window under
the electric light.
She glanced mt the lcdgcrs in the i'm
passive and detached manner which no
tel young ladies with yellow hair inva
riably affect and calculated:
NO. 22l .
PITY you couldn't make II all twos,"
l venturcd. with timld jocularity How
could l guess the import of what was
saying?
She smiled very slightly with dis.
tant condcsccnsion. Manner she de.
mandcd
Edge"
In another moment was in the Gle.
vator.
No. 221 was the last door but one nj
the end of the eastern corridor of the
fourth floor. It proved to he double
bcddcd room, large, cXquisitcly ugly,
but perfectly appointed in all matters
Of comfort. In short, II was character.
istic of the hotel knew that every
bedroom IN that corridor presented OK
nelly the same aspect. one instructive
ly felt the impossibilily of anything
weird, anything bizarre. anything terri
bic, entering the precincts of an abode
So solid, cheerful, orderly and middle
elnss.
1t will be well for me to relate all
that did that evening | went down
to the billiard room and played n hun
dred up with the marker. To show
that my nerves were Mt least as stnndy
as usual that night may mention that
although the marker gave me fifty and
bn I IL, q la
which won his generous approval. The
game concluded, | went into the hail
and asked the porter If there were any
kilograms for me. There were not
noticed that the porter ii was the night
porter. and he had just come on duty
seemed 10 have n peculiarly honest and
attractive facc. Wishing him good
night, | retired to bed.
At 3 O'Clock / awoltc not with
stHrt, but rather gradually. | know II
WAS exactly . O'Clock because the strill
ing of Il notoriously noisy church clock
in the ncighborhoOd was the first thing
| heard. But the clock had not awak
ened me. ! felt sure that something
else, something far more sinister than n
church clock, had been the origin of dis
turbHncc.
listened. Then | heard 1t again. 1t
was the sound of Groan In the next
room.
"Somc one indsposcd, either in body
or mind thought lightly, and | tried
to go to sleep again. But could not
sleep. The groans continued and grew
more poignant, more fcnrsomc. At last
jumped out of bed and turned on the
light.
THAT man, whoever he Is, Is dying,
The idea, as ii were, sprang ut my
throat. "Only man who saw Death
by his side and trcmbcd before the ap
partition could gronn like that"
put Oh some clothes and went In
to the corridor. 1t seemed to stretch
away into illimitablc distance, and far
Off Il solitary electric light glimmered.
My end was n haunt of gloomy shad
oWs, except where the open door al
lowed the light from my bedroom to
illuminate the long, monotonous pat
tern OF the carpet.
proceeded to the door next my own
the door Of No 222, and put my ear
against the panel. The sound Of groans
was now much more distinct and more
terrifying. called. No answer
whats the matter" / inquired. No
answer Then ! tried TO open the door,
but 1t was fast.
"Yes," | said to myself, "cithcr he
dying or he's committed a murder ana
il feeling sorry for it. | must fetch the
night porter"
| was compelled to find my way
along endless corridors and down
flights Of stairs apparently innumera-
bile Here and there an electric light
sought with its yellow eye to pierce
the gloom. At length | reached the
hall.
2 "Thcrc's man either dying or very
I'll In No. 222," | said to the night por
tier.
: rs that So sirf' he replied
Eyes" | insisted 81 think he's dy-
ing. Hadn't you better do something's"
=. "If you think he's dying. sir, I'll call
up the manager, Mr.. Thorn"
I."Do," | said
EThe manager slept on the first floor
and he soon appeared. n younglsh
man In terra Gotta dressing gown. hl.
eyes full Of sleep, yet alert and anx
ions TO do his duty. We all three con
,tinued our progress TO the fourth floor.
Arrived in front of No. 222, we listened
intently, but we could only hear faint
occasional groan
Hes nearly dead" | said. The
manager called aloud, but there was
no answer. Then he valnly tried to
open the door. The night porter de
parted and returned with a stout pair
Of steel tongs. With these and the nat
ural ingenuity peculiar TO hotel pOrters
he forced opcn the door, and we enter
ed No. ODD.
a stout, middle aged man lay on the
bed fully dressed In black. On the