The Chief Legatee

  CHAPTER IV

  MR. RANSOM WAITS

  Gerridge rose early, primed, as he said to himself, for business. But tohis great disappointment he found Mr. Ransom in a frame of mind whichprecluded action. Indeed, that gentleman looked greatly changed. He notonly gave evidence of a sleepless night but showed none of the spirit ofthe previous evening, and hesitated quite painfully when Gerridge askedhim if he did not intend to go ahead with the interview they had promisedthemselves.

  "That's as it may be," was the hesitating reply. "I hardly think that Ishall visit the man you mean this morning. He interests me and I hopethat none of his movements will escape you. But I'm not ready to talk tohim. I prefer to wait a little; to give my wife a chance. I should feelbetter, and have less to forget."

  "Just as you say," returned the detective stiffly. "He's under our thumbat present, I can't tell when he may wriggle out."

  "Not while your eye's on him. And your eye won't leave him as long as youhave confidence in the reward I've promised you."

  "Perhaps not; but you take the life out of me. Last night you were toohot; this morning you are too cold. But it's not for me to complain. Youknow where to find me when you want me." And without more ado thedetective went out.

  Mr. Ransom remained alone and in no enviable frame of mind. He wasdistrustful of himself, distrustful of the man who had made all thistrouble, and distrustful of her, though he would not acknowledge it.Every baser instinct in him drove him to the meeting he declined. To seethe man--to force from him the truth, seemed the only rational thing todo. But the final words of his wife's letter stood in his way. She hadadvised patience. If patience would clear the situation and bring him theresult he so ardently desired, then he would be patient--that is, for aday; he did not promise to wait longer. Yes, he would give her a day.That was time enough for a man suffering on the rack of such anintolerable suspense--one day.

  But even that day did not pass without breaks in his mood and more thanone walk in the direction of the St. Denis Hotel. If Gerridge's eye wason him as well as on the special object of his surveillance, he must havesmiled, more than once, at the restless flittings of his client about theforbidden spot. In the evening it was the same, but the next morning heremained steadfastly at his hotel. He had laid out his future course inthese words: "I will extend the time to three days; then if I do not hearfrom her I will get that wry-necked fellow by the throat and twist anexplanation from him." But the three days passed and he found thesituation unchanged. Then he set as his limit the end of the week, butbefore the full time had elapsed he was advised by Gerridge that hehimself was being followed in his turn by a couple of private detectives;and while still under the agitation of this discovery was furtherdisconcerted by having the following communication thrust into his handin the open street by a young woman who succeeded in losing herself inthe crowd before he had got so much as a good look at her.

  You can judge of his amazement as he read the few lines it contained.

  Read the papers to-night and forget the stranger at the St. Denis.

  That was all. But the writing was hers. The hours passed slowly till thepapers were cried in the street. What Mr. Ransom read in them increasedhis astonishment, I might say his anxiety. It was a paragraph about hiswife, an almost incredible one, running thus:

  A strange explanation is given of the disappearance of Mrs. Roger Ransom on her wedding-day. As our readers will remember, she accompanied her husband to the hotel, but managed to slip away and leave the house while he still stood at the desk. This act, for which nothing in her previous conduct has in any way prepared her friends, is now said to have been due to the shock of hearing, some time during her wedding-day, that a sister whom she had supposed dead was really alive and in circumstances of almost degrading poverty. As this sister had been her own twin the effect upon her mind was very serious. To find and rescue this sister she left her newly made husband in the surreptitious manner already recorded in the papers. That she is not fully herself is shown by her continued secrecy as to her whereabouts. All that she has been willing to admit to the two persons she has so far taken into her confidence--her husband and the agent who conducts her affairs--is that she has found her sister and cannot leave her. Why, she does not state. The case is certainly a curious one and Mr. Ransom has the sympathy of all his friends.

  Confused, and in a state of mind bordering on frenzy, Mr. Ransom returnedto the hotel and sought refuge in his own room. He put no confidence inwhat he had just read; he regarded it as a newspaper story and a greatfake; but she had bid him read it, and this fact in itself was verydisturbing. For how could she have known about it if she had not beenits author, and if she was its author, what purpose had she expected itto serve?

  He was still debating this question when he reached his own room. On thefloor, a little way from the sill, lay a letter. It had been thrust underthe door during his absence. Lifting it in some trepidation, he cast aglance at its inscription and sank staggering into the nearest chair,asking himself if he had the courage to open and read it. For thehandwriting, like that of the note handed him in the street, wasGeorgian's, and he felt himself in a maze concerning her which madeeverything in her connection seem dreamlike and unreal. It was not long,however, before he had mastered its contents. They were strange enough,as this transcription of them will show.

  You have seen what has happened to me, but you cannot understand how I feel. _She looks exactly like me._ It is that which makes the world eddy about me. I cannot get used to it. It is like seeing my own reflected image step from the mirror and walk about doing things. Two of us, Roger, two! If you saw her you would call her Georgian. And she says that she knows _you_, admires _you_! _and she says it in my voice_! I try to shut my ears, but I hear her saying it even when her lips do not move. She is as ignorant as she is afflicted and I cannot leave her. She cannot hear a sound, though she can talk well enough about what is going on in her own mind, and she is so wayward and uncertain of temper, owing to her ignorance and her difficulty in understanding me, that I don't know what she would do if once let out of my sight. I love you--I love you--but I must stay right here.

  Your affectionate and most unhappy

  Georgian.

  The sheet with its tear-stained lines fell from his grasp. Then he caughtit up again and looked carefully at the signature. It was his wife'swithout doubt. Then he studied the rest of the writing and compared itwith that of the note which had been thrust into his hands earlier in theday. There was no difference between them except that there wereevidences of faltering in the latter, not noticeable in the earliercommunication. As he noted these tokens of weakness or suffering, hecaught up the telephone receiver in good earnest and called outGerridge's number. When the detective answered, he shouted back:

  "Have you read the evening papers? If you haven't, do so at once; thencome directly to me. It's business now and no mistake; and our firstvisit shall be on the fellow at the St. Denis."