The Chief Legatee

by Anna Katharine Green

  CHAPTER V

  IN CORRIDOR AND IN ROOM

  Three quarters of an hour later Mr. Ransom and Gerridge stood in closeconference before the last mentioned hotel. The former was peremptory inwhat he had to say.

  "I haven't a particle of confidence in this newspaper story," hedeclared. "I haven't much confidence in her letter. It is this man who isworking us. He has a hold on her and has given her this cock and bullstory to tell. A sister! A twin sister come to light after fifteen yearsof supposed burial! I find the circumstance entirely too romantic. Nordoes an explanation of this nature fit the conditions. She was happybefore she saw _him_ in the church. He isn't her twin sister. I tell youthe game is a deep one and she is the sufferer. Her letters betray morethan a disturbed mind; they betray a disturbed brain. That man is thecause and I mean to wring his secret from him. You are sure of his beingstill in the house?"

  "He was early this morning. He has lived a very quiet life these last fewdays, the life of one waiting. He has not even had visitors, after thatone interview he held with your wife. I have kept careful watch on him.Though a suspected character, he has done nothing suspicious while I'vehad him under my eye."

  "That's all right and I thank you, Gerridge; but it doesn't shake myopinion as to his being the moving power in this fraud. For fraud itis and no mistake. Of that I am fully convinced. Shall we go up? I wantto surprise him in his own room where he cannot slip away or back out."

  "Leave that business to me; I'll manage it. If you want to see him in hisroom, you shall."

  But this time the detective counted without his host. Mr. Porter was notin his room but in one of the halls. They encountered him as they leftthe elevator. He was standing reading a newspaper. The disfigured jawcould not be mistaken. They stopped where they were and looked at him.

  He was intent, absorbed. As they watched, they saw his hands closeconvulsively on the sheet he was holding, while his lips mutteredsome words that made the detective look hard at his companion.

  "Did you hear?" he cautiously inquired, as Mr. Ransom stood hesitating,not knowing whether to address the man or not.

  "No; what did he say? Do you suppose he is reading that paragraph?"

  "I haven't a doubt of it; and his words were, 'Here's a damnedlie!'--very much like your own, sir."

  Mr. Ransom drew the detective a few steps down the corridor.

  "He said that?"

  "Yes, I heard him distinctly."

  "Then my theory is all wrong. This man didn't provide her with thisimaginary twin sister."

  "Evidently not."

  "And is as surprised as we are."

  "And about as much put out. Look at him! Nothing yellow there! We shallhave to go easy with him."

  Mr. Ransom looked and felt a recoil of more than ordinary dislike for theman. The latter had put the paper in his pocket and was coming their way.His face, once possibly handsome, for his eyes and forehead wereconspicuously fine, showed a distortion quite apart from that given byhis physical disfigurement. He was not simply angry but in a mental andmoral rage, and it made him more than hideous; it made him appalling. Yethe said nothing and moved along very quietly, making, to all appearance,for his room. Would he notice them as he went by? It did not seem likely.Instinctively they had stepped to one side, and Mr. Ransom's face was inthe shadow. To both it had seemed better not to accost him while he wasin this mood. They would see him later.

  But this was not to be. Some instinct made him turn, and Mr. Ransom,recognizing his opportunity, stepped forward and addressed him by thename under which he had introduced himself at the reception; that of hiswife's family, Hazen.

  The effect was startling. Instead of increasing his anger, as thedetective had naturally expected, it appeared to have the contraryeffect, for every vestige of passion immediately disappeared from hisface, leaving only its natural disfigurement to plead against him.He approached them, and Ransom, at least, was conscious of a revulsionof feeling in his favor, there was such restraint and yet such undoubtedpower in his strange and peculiar personality.

  "You know me?" said he, darting a keen and comprehensive look from one tothe other.

  "We should like a few words with you," ventured Gerridge. "This gentlemanthinks you can give him very valuable information about a person he isgreatly interested in."

  "He is mistaken." The words came quick and decisive in a not unmelodiousvoice. "I am a stranger in New York; a stranger in this country. I havefew, if any, acquaintances."

  "You have _one_."

  It was now Mr. Ransom's turn.

  "A man with no acquaintances does not attend weddings; certainly notwedding receptions. I have seen you at one, my own. Do you not recognizeme, Mr. Hazen?"

  A twitch of surprise, not even Ransom could call it alarm, drew his mouthstill further towards his ear; but his manner hardly altered and it wasin the same affable tone that he replied:

  "You must pardon my short-sightedness. I did not recognize you, Mr.Ransom."

  "Did not want to," muttered Gerridge, satisfied in his own mind that thisman was only deterred by his marked and unmistakable physiognomy fromdenying the acquaintanceship just advanced.

  "Your congratulations did not produce the desired effect," continued Mr.Ransom. "My happiness was short lived. Perhaps you knew its uncertaintenure when you wished me joy. I remember that your tone lackedsincerity."

  It was a direct attack. Whether a wise one or not remained to be seen.Gerridge watched the unfolding drama with interest.

  "I have reason to think," proceeded Mr. Ransom, "that the unhappytermination of that day's felicities were in a measure due to you.You seem to know my bride very well; much too well for her happinessor mine."

  "We will argue that question in my room," was the unmoved reply. "Theopen hall is quite unsuited to a conversation of this nature. Now," saidhe, turning upon them when they were in the privacy of his small but notuncomfortable apartment, "you will be kind enough to repeat what you justsaid. I wish to thoroughly understand you."

  "You have the right," returned Mr. Ransom, controlling himself under thedetective's eye. "I said that your presence at this wedding seemed todisturb my wife, which fact, considering the after occurrences of theday, strikes me as important enough for discussion. Are you willing todiscuss it affably and fairly?"

  "May I ask who your companion is?" inquired the other, with a slightinclination towards Gerridge.

  "A friend; one who is in my confidence."

  "Then I will answer you without any further hesitation. My presence mayhave disturbed your wife, it very likely did, but I was not to blame forthat. No man is to blame for the bad effects of an unfortunate accident."

  "Oh, I don't mean that," Mr. Ransom hastened to protest. "The cause ofher very evident agitation was not personal. It had a deeper root thanthat. It led, or so I believe, to her flight from a love she cherished,at a moment when our mutual life seemed about to begin."

  The impassive, I might almost say set features of this man of violentpassions but remarkable self-restraint failed to relax or give anytoken of the feelings with which he listened to this attack.

  "Then the news given of your wife in the papers to-night is false,"was his quiet retort. "It professes to give a distinct, if somewhatfantastic, reason for her flight. A reason totally different from theone you suggest."

  "A reason you don't believe in?"

  "Certainly not. It is too bizarre."

  "I share your incredulity. That is why I seek the truth from you ratherthan from the columns of a newspaper. And you owe me this truth. You havebroken up my life."

  "I? That's a strange accusation you make, Mr. Ransom."

  "Possibly. But it's one which strikes hard on your conscience, for allthat. This is evident enough even to a stranger like myself. I amconvinced that if you had not come into her life she would have been atmy side to-day. Now, who are you? She told me you were a relative."

  "She told you the truth; I am. Her nearest relative. The story in thepaper ha
s a certain amount of truth in it. Her brother, not her sister,has come back from the grave. I am that brother. She was once devoted tome."

  "You are--"

  "Yes. Oh, there'll be no difficulty in my proving this relationship.I have evidence upon evidence of the fact right in this room with me;evidence much more convincing and far less disputable than thissurprising twin can bring forward if _her_ identity is questioned.Georgian had a twin sister, but she was buried years ago. I was neverburied. I simply did not return from a well-known and dangerous voyage.The struggle I had for life--you cannot want the details now--has leftits indelible impress in the scar which has turned me from a personableman into what some people might call a monstrosity. And it is this scarwhich has kept me so long from home and country. It has taken me fouryears to make up my mind to face again my family and friends. And nowthat I have, I find that it would have been better for us all if I hadstayed away. Georgian saw me and her mind wavered. In no other way can Iaccount for her wild behavior since that hour. That is all I have to say,sir. I think I am almost as much an object of pity as yourself."

  And for a moment he appeared to be so, not only to Gerridge, but to Mr.Ransom himself. Then something in the man--his unnatural coldness, thepurpose which made itself felt through all his self-restraint--reawakenedMr. Ransom's distrust and led him to say:

  "Your complaint is natural. If you are Mrs. Ransom's brother, thereshould be sympathy between us and not antagonism. But I feel onlyantagonism. Why is this?"

  A shrug, followed by an odd smile.

  "You should be able to account for that on very reasonable grounds," saidhe. "I do not expect much mercy from strangers. It is hard to make yourgood intentions felt through such a distorted medium as my expression hasnow become."

  "Mrs. Ransom has been here," Ransom suddenly launched forth. "Within twohours of your encounter under Mr. Fulton's roof, she was talking with youin this hotel. I have proof positive of that, sir."

  "I have no wish to deny the fact," was the steady answer. "She did comehere and we had a talk; it was necessary; I wanted money."

  The last phrase was uttered with such grim determination that theexclamation which had risen to Mr. Ransom's lips died in a conflictof feeling which forbade any rejoinder that savored of sarcasm. Hazen,however, must have noted his first look, for he added with an air ofhaughty apology:

  "I repeat that we were once very fond of each other."

  Ransom felt his perplexities growing with every moment he talked withthis man. He remembered the money which both he and Gerridge had seen inher bag,--an amount too large for her to have retained very much on herperson,--and following the instinct of the moment, he remarked:

  "Mrs. Ransom is not the woman to hesitate when a person she loves makesan appeal for money. She handed you immediately a large sum, I have nodoubt."

  "She wrote me out a check," was the simple but cold answer.

  Mr. Ransom felt the failure of his attempt and stole a glance atGerridge.

  The doubtful smile he received was not very encouraging. The same thoughthad evidently struck both. The money in the bag was a blind--she hadcarried her check-book with her and so could draw on her account forwhatever she wished. But under what name? Her maiden one or his? Ransomdetermined to find out.

  "I do not begrudge you the money," said he, "but Mrs. Ransom's signaturehad changed a few hours previous to her making out this check. Did sheremember this?"

  "She signed her married name promising to notify the bank at once."

  "And you cashed the check?"

  "No, sir; I am not in such immediate need of money as that. I have itstill, but I shall endeavor to cash it to-morrow. Some question may comeup as to her sanity, and I do not choose to lose the only money she hasever been in a position to give me."

  "Mr. Hazen, you harp on the irresponsible condition of her mind. Did yousee any tokens of this in the interview you had together?"

  "No; she seemed sane enough then; a little shocked and troubled, butquite sane."

  "You knew that she had stolen away from me--that she had resorted to amost unworthy subterfuge in order to hold this conversation with you?"

  "No; I had asked her to come, and on that very afternoon if possible, butI never knew what means she took for doing so; I didn't ask and shedidn't say."

  "But she talked of her marriage? She must have said something about anevent which is usually considered the greatest in a woman's life."

  "Yes, she spoke of it."

  "And of me?"

  "Yes, she spoke of you."

  "And in what terms? I cannot refrain from asking you, Mr. Hazen, I amin such ignorance as to her real attitude towards me; her conduct is somysterious; the reasons she gives for it so puerile."

  "She said nothing against you or her marriage. She mentioned both, butnot in a manner that would add to your or my knowledge of her intentions.My sister disappointed me, sir. She was much less open than I wished. Allthat I could make out of her manner and conversation was the overpoweringshock she felt at seeing me again and seeing me so changed. She didn'teven tell me when and where we might meet again. When she left, she wasas much lost to me as she was to you, and I am no less interested infinding her than you are yourself. I had no idea she did not mean toreturn to you when she went away from this hotel."

  Mr. Ransom sprang upright in an agitation the other may have shared, butof which he gave no token.

  "Do you mean to say," he asked, "that you cannot tell me where the womanyou call your sister is now?"

  "No more than you can give me the same necessary information in regard toyour wife. I am waiting like yourself to hear from her--and waiting withas little hope."

  Had he seen Ransom's hand close convulsively over the pocket in which herfew strange words to him were lying, that a slight tinge of sarcasm gaveedge to the last four words?

  "But this is not like my wife," protested Ransom, hesitating to accusethe other of falsehood, yet evidently doubting him from the bottom of hisheart. "Why deceive us both? She was never a disingenuous woman."

  "In childhood she had her incomprehensible moments," observed Hazen, withan ambiguous lift of his shoulders; then, as Ransom made an impatientmove, added with steady composure: "I have candidly answered all yourquestions whether agreeable or otherwise, and the fact that I am as muchshocked as yourself by these mad and totally incredible statements ofhers about a newly recovered sister should prove to you that she is notfollowing any lead of mine in this dissemination of a bare-facedfalsehood."

  There was truth in this which both Mr. Ransom and Gerridge felt obligedto own. Yet they were not satisfied, even after Mr. Hazen, almost againstMr. Ransom's will, had established his claims to the relationship heprofessed, by various well-attested documents he had at hand. Instinctcould not be juggled with, nor could Ransom help feeling that the mysteryin which he found himself entangled had been deepened rather thandispelled by the confidences of this new brother-in-law.

  "The maze is at its thickest," he remarked as he left a few minutes laterwith the perplexed Gerridge. "How shall I settle this new question? Bywhat means and through whose aid can I gain an interview with my wife?"