The Chief Legatee

  CHAPTER XVI

  "LOVE!"

  She lay in the abandonment of profound slumber, one hand under her cheek,the other hidden by the white spread Mrs. Deo had been careful to drawclosely about her. Both Mr. Harper and Mr. Ransom regretted this fact,for each instinctively felt that in her hands, if not in her sleepingface, they should be able to read the story of her life. If that life hadbeen a hard one, such as must have befallen the waif, Anitra, her handsshould show it.

  But her hands were covered. And so, or nearly so, was her face; thelatter by her long and curling locks of whose beauty I have hithertospoken. One cheek only was visible, and this cheek looked dark to Ransom,decidedly darker than Georgian's; but realizing that the room itself wasdark, he forbore to draw the attention of the lawyer to it, or even toallow it to affect his own judgment to the extent it reasonably calledfor.

  His first scrutiny over, Mr. Harper crossed over to his old seat againstthe wall. Mr. Ransom remained by the bed. And thus began their watch.

  It was a long and solemn one; a tedious waiting. The gloom and quiet ofthe small room was so profound that both men, for all their suspense andabsorption in the event they awaited, welcomed the sound of a passingwhisper or the careful stepping of feet in the corridor without.

  If they turned to look they could just catch the outline of each other'scountenance, but this they did not often attempt. Their attention washeld by the silent figure on the bed, and so motionless was this figurein the profound slumber in which it lay enchained, and so motionless werethey in their increasing suspense and expectation, that time seemed tohave come to a standstill in this little room. There was one break. Thelips which had hitherto remained mute opened in a quiet murmur, and Mr.Harper, watching his client, saw him clutch the headboard in suddenemotion before he finally rose and, with looks still fixed on the bed,approached him with the startling announcement:

  "The word she whispered was '_Love_'! It must be Georgian."

  Alas! the same thought struck them both. Was this a proof? Mr. Ransomflushed hotly and crept softly back to his post.

  Again time seemed to stop. Then there came a cautious rap on the door,followed by the hasty retreat of the person knocking. It caused Mr.Ransom to stir slightly, but did not affect the lawyer. Suddenly theformer rose with every evidence of renewed agitation. This drew Mr.Harper from his seat.

  "What is it?" he cried, softly approaching the other and whispering,though after events proved that he might have spoken aloud with impunity.

  Mr. Ransom pointed to her temple from which her hair had just fallenaway.

  "The veining here. I have often studied it. I recognize its everyconvolution. It is Georgian, Georgian who lies there--ah, she's stirring,waking! Let me go--"

  He dragged himself from Mr. Harper's detaining hand, bent over the bedand murmured softly but with the thrilling intensity of a suffering,hoping heart, the name which at that moment meant the whole wide worldto him:

  "Georgian!"

  Would she greet this expression with recognition and a smile? The lawyerhalf expected her to and stepped near enough to see, but the eyes whichhad opened upon the white wall in front of her stared on, and when theydid turn, as they did after one halting, agonizing minute, it was inresponse to some movement made by Mr. Ransom and not in reply to hisvoice.

  This sudden and unexpected overthrow of his secretly cherished hopeswas terrible. As he saw her rise on one elbow and meet his gaze withone which revealed the astonishment and resentment of a wild creaturesuddenly entrapped, he felt, or so he afterwards declared, as if theviper which had hitherto clung cold and deathlike about his heart hadsuddenly sprung to life and stung him. It was the most uncanny momentof his life.

  Aghast at the effect of this upon his own mind, he reeled from the room,followed by the lawyer. As they passed down the hall they heard her voiceraised to a scream in uncontrollable shame and indignation. This wasfollowed by the snap of her key in the lock.

  They had made a great mistake, or so the lawyer decided when they againstood face to face in Mr. Ransom's room. That the latter made noimmediate answer was no proof that he did not coincide in the other'sopinion. Indeed it was only too evident that he did, for his first words,when he had controlled himself sufficiently to speak, were these:

  "I should have taken your advice. In future I will. To me she ishenceforth Anitra, and I shall treat her as my wife's sister. Watch ifI fail. Anitra! Anitra!" He reiterated the word as if he would fix it inhis mind as well as accustom his lips to it. Then he wheeled about andfaced Harper, whose eyes he doubtless felt on him. "Yet I am not sothoroughly convinced as to feel absolute peace here," he admitted,striking his breast with irrepressible passion. "My good sense tells meI am a fool, but my heart whispers that the sweetness in her sleepingface was the sweetness which won me to love Georgian Hazen. That gentlesweetness! Did you note it?"

  "Yes, I noted what you mention. But don't let that influence you toomuch. The wildest heart has its tender moments, and her dreams may havebeen pleasant ones."

  Mr. Ransom remembered her unconscious whisper and felt stunned, silenced.The lawyer gave no evidence of observing this, but remarked quite easilyand with evident sincerity:

  "I am more readily affected by proof than you are. I am quite convincedmyself, that our wits have been wool-gathering. There was no mistakingher look of outraged womanhood. It was not your wife who encountered yourlook, but the deaf Anitra. Of course, you won't believe me. Yet I adviseyou to do so. It would be too dreadful to find that this woman really isyour wife."

  "_What?_"

  "I know what I am saying. Nothing much worse could happen to you. Don'tyou see where the hypothesis to which you persist in clinging would landyou? Should the woman in there prove to be your wife Georgian--" Thelawyer stopped and, in a tone the seriousness of which could not fail toimpress his agitated hearer, added quietly, "you remember what I said toyou a short time ago about _guilt_."

  "Guilt!"

  "No, the word was shame. But guilt better expresses my meaning. I repeat,should the woman prove to be, not the lovely but ignorant girl sheappears, but Georgian Ransom, your wife, then upon her must fall theonus of Anitra's disappearance if not of her possible death. No! you musthear me out; the time has come for plain speaking. Your wife had herreasons--we do not know what they were, but they were no common ones--forwishing this intrusive sister out of the way. Anitra, on the contrary,could have desired nothing so much as the preservation of her protector.The conclusion is not an agreeable one. Let us hope that the question itinvolves will never be presented for any man's consideration."

  Mr. Ransom sank speechless into a chair. This last blow was anoverwhelming one and he sank before it.

  Mr. Harper altered his tone. He had real commiseration for his client andhad provided himself with an antidote to the poison he had just soruthlessly administered.

  "Courage!" he cried. "I only wished you to see that there were worselosses to consider than that of your wife's desertion, even if thatdesertion took the form of suicide. There is a reason which you haveforgotten for acquitting Mrs. Ransom of such criminal intentions andof accepting as your sister-in-law the woman who calls herself Anitra.Recall Mrs. Ransom's will; the general terms of which I felt myselfjustified in confiding to you. In it there are no provisions made forthis Anitra. Had Mrs. Ransom, for any inexplicable reason, planned anexchange of identities with her sorely afflicted sister, she would havebeen careful to have left that sister some portion of her great fortune.But she did not remember her with a cent. This fact is very significantand should give you great comfort."

  "It should, it should, in face of the other alternative you havesuggested as possible. But I fear that I am past comfort. In whateverlight we regard this tragedy, it all means woe and disaster to me. I havemade a mess of my life and I have got to face the fact like a man." Thenrising and confronting Mr. Harper with passionate intensity, he calledout till the room rang again:

  "Georgian is dead! You hear me, Georgian is d
ead!"