The Chief Legatee

by Anna Katharine Green

  CHAPTER VII

  RAIN

  Mr. Ransom had never heard of Sitford, but upon inquiry learned that itwas a small manufacturing town some ten miles from the direct route oftravel, to which it was only connected by a stage-coach running once aday, late in the afternoon.

  What a spot for a meeting of this kind! Why chosen by her? Why submittedto by this busy New York lawyer? Was this another mystery; or had hemisinterpreted Mr. Harper's purpose in passing over to him the address ofthis small town? He preferred to think the former. He could hardlycontemplate now the prospect of failing to see her again which mustfollow any mistake as to this being the place agreed upon for the signingof her will.

  Meantime he had said nothing to Gerridge. This was a hope too personal toconfide in a man of his position. He would go to Sitford and endeavor tocatch a glimpse of his wife there. If successful, the whole temper of hismind might change towards the situation, if not toward her. He would atleast have the satisfaction of seeing her. The detective had enough to doin New York.

  April the fifteenth fell on Tuesday. He was not minded to wait so longbut took the boat on Monday afternoon. This landed him some time beforedaylight at the time-worn village from which the coach ran to Sitford. Arailway connected this village with New York, necessitating no worseinconvenience than crossing the river on a squat, old-fashioned ferryboat; but he calculated that both the lawyer and Mrs. Ransom would makeuse of this, and felt the risk would be less for him if he chose theslower and less convenient route.

  He had given his name on the boat as Roger Johnston, which was true sofar as it went, and he signed this same name at the hotel where he putup till morning. The place was an entirely unknown one to him and he wasunknown to it. Both fortuitous facts, he thought, in the light of his ownperplexity as to the position in which he really stood towards thismysterious wife of his.

  The coach, as I have said, ran late in the afternoon. This was toaccommodate the passengers who came by rail. But Mr. Ransom had notplanned to go by coach. That would be to risk a premature encounter withhis wife, or at least with the lawyer. He preferred to hire a team, andbe driven there by some indifferent livery-stable man. Neither prospectwas pleasing. It had been raining all night, and bade fair to rain allday. The river was clouded with mist; the hills, which are the glory ofthe place, were obliterated from the landscape, and the road--he hadnever seen such a road, all little pools and mud.

  However, there was no help for it. The journey must be made, and seeinga livery-stable sign across the road, lost no time in securing theconveyance he needed. At nine o'clock he started out.

  The rain drove so fiercely from the northwest,--the very direction inwhich they were traveling,--that enjoyment of the scenery was impossible.Nor could any pleasure be got out of conversation with the man who drovehim. Rain, rain, that was all; and the splash of mud over the wheelswhich turned all too slowly for his comfort. And there were to be tenmiles of this. Naturally he turned to his thoughts and they were all ofher.

  Why had he not known her better before linking his fate to hers? Why hadhe never encouraged her to talk to him more about herself and her earlylife? Had he but done so, he might now have some clew to the mysterydevouring him. He might know why so rich and independent a woman hadchosen this remote town on an inaccessible road, for the completion ofan act which was in itself a mystery. Why could not the will have beensigned in New York? But he was not inquisitive in those days. He hadtaken her for what she seemed--an untrammeled, gay-hearted girl, readyto love and be his happy wife and lifelong companion; and he had beencontented to keep all conversation along natural lines and do no probing.And now,--this brother whom all had thought dead, come to life withmenace in his acts and conversation! Also a sister,--but this sister hehad no belief in. The coincidence was too startlingly out of nature forhim to accept a brother and a sister too. A brother or a sister; but notboth. Not even Mr. Harper's assurances should influence his credulity tothis extent. "Money! money is at the bottom of it all," was his finaldecision. "She knows it and is making her will, as a possible protection.But why come here?"

  Thus every reflection ended.

  Suddenly a vanished, half-forgotten memory came back. It brought a gleamof light into the darkness which had hitherto enveloped the whole matter.She had once spoken to him of her early life. She had mentioned a placewhere she used to play as a child; had mentioned it lovingly, longingly.There were hills, she had said; hills all around. And woods full ofchestnut-trees, safe woods where she could wander at will. And theroads--how she loved to walk the roads. No automobiles then, not evenbicycles. One could go miles without meeting man or horse. Sometimes aheavily-laden cart would go by drawn by a long string of oxen; but theywere picturesque and added to the charm. Oxen were necessary where therewas no railroad.

  As he repeated these words to himself, he looked up. Through the downpourhis eyes could catch a glimpse of the road before him, winding up a longhillside. Down this road was approaching a dozen yoke of oxen dragging awagon piled with bales of some sort of merchandise. One question in hismind was answered. This spot was not an unknown one to her. It wasconnected with her childhood days. There was reason back of her choiceof it as a place of meeting between her and her lawyer, or if not reason,association, and that of the tenderest kind. He felt himself relieved ofthe extreme weight of his oppression and ventured upon asking a questionor two about Sitford, which he took pains to say he was visiting for thefirst time.

  The information he obtained was but meager, but he did learn that therewas a very fair tavern there and that the manufactures of the place weresufficient to account for a stranger's visit. The articles made weremostly novelties.

  This knowledge he meant to turn to account, but changed his mind whenthey finally splashed into town and stopped before the tavern which hadbeen so highly recommended by his driver. The house, dripping though itwas from every eave, had such a romantic air that he thought he couldventure to cite other reasons for his stay there than the prosaic one ofbusiness. That is, if the landlady should give any evidence of being atall in accord with her quaint home and picturesque surroundings.

  She showed herself and he at once gave her credit for being all he couldwish in the way of credulity and good-nature, and meeting her with thesmile which had done good execution in its day, he asked if she had aroom for a writer who was finishing a book, and who only asked for quietand regular meals before his own cosy fire. This to rouse her imaginationand make her amenable to his wishes for secrecy.

  She was a simple soul and fell easily into the trap. In half an hour Mr.Ransom was ensconced in a pleasant room over the porch, a room which hesoon learned possessed many advantages. For it not only overlooked themain entrance, but was so placed as to command a view of all the rooms onhis hall. In two of those rooms he bade fair to be greatly interested,Mrs. Deo having remarked that they were being prepared for a lady who wascoming that night. As he had no doubt who this lady was, he encouragedthe good woman to talk, and presently had the satisfaction of hearing hersay that she was very happy over this lady's coming, as she was a Sitfordgirl, one of the old family of Hazens, and though married now and veryrich was much loved by every one in town because she had never forgottenSitford or Sitford people.

  She was coming! He had made no mistake. And this was the place of herbirth, just as he had decided when he saw that long line of oxen! Herealized how fortunate he was, or rather how indebted he was to Mr.Harper, since in this place only could he hope to gain satisfaction onthe mooted point raised by that same gentleman. If she had been bornhere, so had her twin sister; so had the brother whose claims lay counterto that sister's. Both must have been known to these people, theirpersons, their history and the circumstances of their supposed deaths.The clews thus afforded must prove invaluable to him. From them he mustsoon be able to ascertain in which story to place faith and whichclaimant to believe. He might have interrogated his hostess, but fearedto show his interest in the supposed stranger. He preferred to wait a f
ewhours and gather his facts from other lips.

  Meantime it rained.