The name of the late Lord Chizelrigg never comes to my mind without
instantly suggesting that of Mr. T.A. Edison. I never saw the late Lord
Chizelrigg, and I have met Mr. Edison only twice in my life, yet the
two men are linked in my memory, and it was a remark the latter once
made that in great measure enabled me to solve the mystery which the
former had wrapped round his actions.
There is no memorandum at hand to tell me the year in which those two
meetings with Edison took place. I received a note from the Italian
Ambassador in Paris requesting me to wait upon him at the Embassy. I
learned that on the next day a deputation was to set out from the
Embassy to one of the chief hotels, there to make a call in state upon
the great American inventor, and formally present to him various
insignia accompanying certain honours which the King of Italy had
conferred upon him. As many Italian nobles of high rank had been
invited, and as these dignitaries would not only be robed in the
costumes pertaining to their orders, but in many cases would wear
jewels of almost inestimable value, my presence was desired in the
belief that I might perhaps be able to ward off any attempt on the
part of the deft-handed gentry who might possibly make an effort to
gain these treasures, and I may add, with perhaps some little
self-gratification, no _contretemps_ occurred.
Mr. Edison, of course, had long before received notification of the
hour at which the deputation would wait upon him, but when we entered
the large parlour assigned to the inventor, it was evident to me at a
glance that the celebrated man had forgotten all about the function.
He stood by a bare table, from which the cloth had been jerked and
flung into a corner, and upon that table were placed several bits of
black and greasy machinery--cog wheels, pulleys, bolts, etc. These
seemingly belonged to a French workman who stood on the other side of
the table, with one of the parts in his grimy hand. Edison's own hands
were not too clean, for he had palpably been examining the material,
and conversing with the workman, who wore the ordinary long blouse of
an iron craftsman in a small way. I judged him to be a man with a
little shop of his own in some back street, who did odd jobs of
engineering, assisted perhaps by a skilled helper or two, and a few
apprentices. Edison looked sternly towards the door as the solemn
procession filed in, and there was a trace of annoyance on his face at
the interruption, mixed with a shade of perplexity as to what this
gorgeous display all meant. The Italian is as ceremonious as the
Spaniard where a function is concerned, and the official who held the
ornate box which contained the jewellery resting on a velvet cushion,
stepped slowly forward, and came to a stand in front of the bewildered
American. Then the Ambassador, in sonorous voice, spoke some gracious
words regarding the friendship existing between the United States and
Italy, expressed a wish that their rivalry should ever take the form
of benefits conferred upon the human race, and instanced the honoured
recipient as the most notable example the world had yet produced of a
man bestowing blessings upon all nations in the arts of peace. The
eloquent Ambassador concluded by saying that, at the command of his
Royal master, it was both his duty and his pleasure to present, and so
forth and so forth.
Mr. Edison, visibly ill at ease, nevertheless made a suitable reply in
the fewest possible words, and the _étalage_ being thus at an end, the
noblemen, headed by their Ambassador, slowly retired, myself forming
the tail of the procession. Inwardly I deeply sympathised with the
French workman who thus unexpectedly found himself confronted by so
much magnificence. He cast one wild look about him, but saw that his
retreat was cut off unless he displaced some of these gorgeous
grandees. He tried then to shrink into himself, and finally stood
helpless like one paralysed. In spite of Republican institutions,
there is deep down in every Frenchman's heart a respect and awe for
official pageants, sumptuously staged and costumed as this one was.
But he likes to view it from afar, and supported by his fellows, not
thrust incongruously into the midst of things, as was the case with
this panic-stricken engineer. As I passed out, I cast a glance over my
shoulder at the humble artisan content with a profit of a few francs a
day, and at the millionaire inventor opposite him, Edison's face,
which during the address had been cold and impassive, reminding me
vividly of a bust of Napoleon, was now all aglow with enthusiasm as he
turned to his humble visitor. He cried joyfully to the workman:--
'A minute's demonstration is worth an hour's explanation. I'll call
round tomorrow at your shop, about ten o'clock, and show you how to
make the thing work.'
I lingered in the hall until the Frenchman came out, then, introducing
myself to him, asked the privilege of visiting his shop next day at
ten. This was accorded with that courtesy which you will always find
among the industrial classes of France, and next day I had the
pleasure of meeting Mr. Edison. During our conversation I complimented
him on his invention of the incandescent electric light, and this was
the reply that has ever remained in my memory:--
'It was not an invention, but a discovery. We knew what we wanted; a
carbonised tissue, which would withstand the electric current in a
vacuum for, say, a thousand hours. If no such tissue existed, then the
incandescent light, as we know it, was not possible. My assistants
started out to find this tissue, and we simply carbonised everything
we could lay our hands on, and ran the current through it in a vacuum.
At last we struck the right thing, as we were bound to do if we kept
on long enough, and if the thing existed. Patience and hard work will
overcome any obstacle.'
This belief has been of great assistance to me in my profession. I
know the idea is prevalent that a detective arrives at his solutions
in a dramatic way through following clues invisible to the ordinary
man. This doubtless frequently happens, but, as a general thing, the
patience and hard work which Mr. Edison commends is a much safer guide.
Very often the following of excellent clues had led me to disaster, as
was the case with my unfortunate attempt to solve the mystery of the
five hundred diamonds.
As I was saying, I never think of the late Lord Chizelrigg without
remembering Mr. Edison at the same time, and yet the two were very
dissimilar. I suppose Lord Chizelrigg was the most useless man that
ever lived, while Edison is the opposite.
One day my servant brought in to me a card on which was engraved 'Lord
Chizelrigg.'
'Show his lordship in,' I said, and there appeared a young man of
perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five, well dressed, and of most charming
manners, who, nevertheless, began his interview by asking a question
such as had never before been addressed to me, and which, if put to a
solicitor, or other professional man, would have been answered with
some indignation. Indeed, I believe it is a written or unwritten law
of the legal profession that the acceptance of such a proposal as
Lord Chizelrigg made to me, would, if proved, result in the disgrace
and ruin of the lawyer.
'Monsieur Valmont,' began Lord Chizelrigg, 'do you ever take up cases
on speculation?'
'On speculation, sir? I do not think I understand you.'
His lordship blushed like a girl, and stammered slightly as he
attempted an explanation.
'What I mean is, do you accept a case on a contingent fee? That is to
say, monsieur--er--well, not to put too fine a point upon it, no
results, no pay.'