The Chief Legatee

by Anna Katharine Green

  CHAPTER XXIX

  "THERE IS ONE WAY"

  "Have you done?"

  Hazen was on his feet and, rigid still, but oscillating from side toside, as though his strength did not suffice to hold him quite erect, wassurveying them with eyes sunk so deeply in his head that they looked likedying sparks reanimated for an instant by some passing breath.

  The half-fainting woman he addressed did not answer. She was looking upat Ransom for the sympathy and pardon he was as yet too dazed to show.

  Hazen made a move. It was that of physical suffering sternly endured.

  "Let me speak," he urged. "I have a question to ask. I must ask it now.Who was the woman who came up from New York with you? There were two ofyou then."

  Without turning her head Georgian replied:

  "That was Bela, my maid; the same one who personated me on the afternoonof my wedding."

  "That accounts for the coarseness of her neck," Hazen explained with acertain grim humor to the lawyer, who had given a slight start ofsurprise or humiliation. Then quietly to Georgian:

  "Was it she who threw the comb and dropped your bag where my man foundit?"

  "I threw the comb; threw it from my window before I uttered that loudshriek. It did not go very far; but I had to be satisfied with the factthat it lay in the direction of the waterfall. But it was to Bela Ientrusted the flinging of the bag. I gave it to her when she left thecoach. I had explained to her long before just what a place she wouldfind herself in when she was set down at the foot of the lane; how shewas to make her way in the darkness till she came to where there wereno more trees, when she was to strike across to the stream, led by thenoise of the waterfall. I was very particular in my directions, because Iknew the danger she incurred of slipping into the chasm. It was her fearof this and the more than ordinary darkness, I presume, which made herthrow the bag hap-hazard. I simply wanted it dropped on the bank abovethe waterfall."

  "I saw the girl," Mr. Harper broke in. "She wore a black skirt like theone you now wear, a black blouse and a red-checked handkerchief knottedabout her throat. But the young woman who was seen leaving these partsthe next morning had on some kind of a red dress and wore a hat. Bela hadthrown away her hat; it was picked up where the coach stopped andafterwards brought here."

  "I know. My plans went deep; I foresaw the possibility of her beingrecognized by her clothes. To guard against this, I had her skirt andblouse made double, the one side black, the other a bright color. She hadsimply to turn them. The extra hat she carried with her; it was small andeasily concealed. Her neckerchief she probably tucked away. I had itsmate in my pocket, and when I left my room by the window, as I did themoment after I had locked the two rooms, it was with my hair pulled downand this neckerchief about my shoulders. How did I dare the risk! Iwonder now; but it was life, life I was after; life and love; nothingelse would have made me so fearless; nothing else would have given mesuch confidence in myself or lent such speed to my feet, running as I didin the darkness."

  "You ran around the house to the lane, and entered it by the turn-stile."

  "Yes, and so quickly that I had time to splash myself with mud and loseall my natural characteristics before any one came to find me. It wasAnitra they met, panting and disheveled, at the head of the lane; Anitrain appearance, Anitra in heart. I did not act a part; I _was_ Anitra;Anitra as I had conceived her. To me she was and is an active, livingpersonality. Whenever I faced you in her character, I thought with herhalf-educated mind; felt with her half-disciplined heart. I even shut myears to sounds; I would not hear; half the time I did not. Nor did I fallback into my old ways when I was alone. From the minute Georgian closedher door upon you for the last time, and I darkened my skin inpreparation for a permanent assumption of Anitra's individuality, Ibecame the imaginary twin, in thought, feeling, and action. It was myonly safeguard. Alas! had I only gone one step further and made myselfreally deaf!"

  The cry was bitterness itself, but it passed unheeded. Mr. Ransom couldnot speak and Hazen had other cares in mind.

  "Where is this woman Bela now?" he asked.

  Georgian was too absorbed or too unwilling, to answer.

  He repeated the question, this time with an authority she could notresist. Rising slowly, she faced him for one impressive moment.

  "My God!" came from her lips in startled surprise. "How pale you are! Sitdown or you will fall."

  He shook his head impatiently.

  "It's nothing. Answer my question. Where is this Bela now?"

  "I don't know. She is beyond my reach--and _yours_. I told her to loseherself. I think she is clever enough to do so. The money I paid her wasworth a few years spent in obscurity."

  The spark lighting his eye brightened into baleful flame, but she metit calmly. An indomitable spirit confronted one equally indomitable, andhis was the first to succumb. Turning from her, Hazen took out penciland paper from his pocket, and, crossing to the window with that samepeculiar and oscillating motion of which he seemed unconscious, or whichhe found it impossible to subdue, he wrote a line, folded it, and beforeeven Harper was aware of his purpose threw up the sash and flung it out,uttering a quick, sharp whistle as he did so.

  "What's that you're up to?" shouted the lawyer, rushing to the window andpeering over the other's shoulder into the open space below, from which aman was just disappearing.

  "Am I a prisoner of the police that you should ask me that?" returnedHazen, haughtily.

  "No, but you should be," retorted Harper. "I don't like your ways, Hazen.I don't like what you and your sister have said about the Cause and theconscienceless obedience exacted from its members. I don't like any ofit; least of all this passing over of poor Bela's name to one whose dutyit will possibly be to make trouble for her."

  Hazen smiled and moved from the window. No one there had ever seen such asmile before, and the oppression which it brought heightened Georgian'sfear to terror.

  "Let be!" she cried, lifting her hands towards Harper in inconceivableanxiety. "A quarrel with him will not help you and it may greatly injure_me_. Alfred, what am I to expect? Something dreadful, I can see. Yourface is not the face of one who forgives, or who sees in a gift of moneyan adequate recompense for a cowardly withdrawal."

  "You read rightly," said he. "Your fortune will be accepted by the Chief,but he will never forget the cowardice. What faith can he put in one whoprefers her own happiness to the general good? You must prepare forpunishment."

  "Punishment!" broke scornfully from Harper's lips.

  She hushed him with a look before which even he stood aghast.

  "You will only waste words," she cried. "If he says punishment, I mayexpect punishment." And turning back to Ransom, in a burst of longing andpassion, she raised her eyes to him again, saying, "You do not forgivebecause you do not realize my danger. But you will realize it when I amgone."

  Ransom, under a sudden releasement of the tension of doubt and awe whichhad hitherto held him speechless, gave her one wild stare, then caughther to his breast.

  She uttered a happy sigh.

  "Ah!" she murmured in the soft ecstasy and boundless relief of themoment, "how I have learned to love you during the fears and agoniesof this awful week."

  "And I you," was the whispered answer. "Too deeply," he impetuously addedin louder tones, "to let any harm come to you now."

  She smiled; but desperation fought with love in that smile. Gentlyreleasing herself, she cast another glance at Hazen, upon whose grayand distorted countenance there had settled a great gloom, andpassionately exclaimed:

  "Had law or love been able to interfere with the judgment of our Chief, Ishould not have been driven into the herculean task of deceiving you andthe whole world as to my real identity." Then with slowly drooping head,and the manner of one who has heard his doom pronounced, she hoarselywhispered; "The death-mark was scrawled upon my door last night. This isnever done without the consent of the Chief. No one can save me now, noteven my own brother."

  "False. I scrawle
d those lines," declared Ransom. "It was a test--"

  "Which _I_ commanded you to make," put in Hazen. Then in fainter and lessstrenuous tones, "She's right. Georgian Ransom is doomed; no one can saveher."

  "False again!" This time it was Harper who interposed. "I can and will.You forget that I know the name of your Chief. Conspiracy such as youhint at is indictable in this country. I am a lawyer. I shall protect,not only your sister, but her money."

  The smile he received in return evinced no ordinary scorn.

  "Try it," said he. Then with a laugh so low as to be almost inaudible,yet so full of meaning that even Harper's cheek lost color, he calmlydeclared: "No one knows the name of our Chief. Auchincloss is a memberand a valuable one--the only one whose name Georgian positively knows;but he's but a unit in a thousand. You cannot reach the Head or even theHeart of this great organization through him, and if you did and punishedit, the Cause would grow another head and you would be as far frominjuring us as you are now. Georgian is right. Not even I can save hernow." Then, with a steady look into each of their faces, he smiled againand one and all shuddered. "But the Cause will go on," he cried in tonesringing with enthusiasm. "Mankind will drop its shackles and we, we shallhave unriveted one of its chains. It is worth dying for, I, Alfred Hazen,say it."

  Slowly he sank back into his chair. The pallor which had astounded allfrom the first had now become the ghastly mask of a soul whose only tokenof life glimmered through the orbits of his fast glazing eyes. Hebreathed, but in great pants. Georgian became alarmed.

  "What is it?" she cried, forgetting her own fears and threats in thehorror which his appearance excited. "This is something more thanexhaustion from the pounding of that murderous eddy. What have you done?Tell me, Alfred, tell me."

  For the first time since his entrance into the room a suggestion ofsweetness crept into his tone.

  "Simply forestalled the verdict of the Chief," said he. "I was under oathto leave the country to-day on no ordinary errand. I failed to keep myword, believing that the interests of the Cause could be better served bywhat I have here undertaken than by the fulfilment of my primal duty. Butwe are not allowed the free exercise of our own judgment, else what mancould be depended on? With us, neglect means death, no matter what theexcuse or the Cause's benefit. I knew this when I made my choice lastnight. I have been dying ever since, but only actually since I came intothis room. When the doctors decided that I had received no mortal hurt inthe eddy, I--"

  "Alfred!" The sister-heart spoke at last. "Not--not poison!"

  "That is what you may call it here," said he, with a return to his oldimperious manner, "but later and to the world it will be kindness on yourpart to name it exhaustion--the effect of my battle with the water. Thedoctors will reconsider their diagnosis and blame my poor heart. You willhave no trouble about it. It _is_ my heart--I feel it failing--failing--"

  He was sinking, but suddenly his whole nature flared up. Bounding to hisfeet, he stood before them, with eyes aflame and a passionate strength inhis attitude which held them spellbound.

  "What can law, what can selfish greed, what can self-aggrandizement andthe most pitiless ambition effect against men who own to such disciplineas this? Nothing. The world will go on, you will try your little ways,your petty reforms, your slow-moving legislation and promise of justiceto the weak, but the invincible is the ready; ready to act; ready tosuffer, ready to die so that God is justified of his children and manlifted into brotherhood and equality. You cannot strive against theunseen and the fearless. The Cause will triumph though all else fails.Georgian, I am sorry--" He was tottering now, but he held them backwith a stern gesture, "I don't think I ever knew just what love was.There is one way--only one--"

  But from those lips the explanation of this one way never came. As theysaw the change in him and rushed to his support, his head fell forward onhis breast and all was over.

  CHAPTER XXX

  NOT YET

  They had laid him on the bed and Mr. Harper, in his usual practical way,was hastening to rouse the house, when Georgian stepped before him andlaid her hand upon the door.

  "Not yet," said she with authority. "He said there was a way--let us findit before we give up our secret and our possible safety. Mr. Harper, haveyou guessed that way?"

  "No, except the usual one of protection through the law which he scouts.I do not believe, Mrs. Ransom, in any other being necessary. Yourbrother's threats answered a very good purpose while he was alive, butnow that he is dead they need not trouble you. I'm not even sure that Ibelieve in the organization. It was mostly in your brother's brain, Mrs.Ransom; there's no such band, or if there is, its powers are not sounlimited as he would make you believe."

  She simply pointed to the motionless form and the distorted face whichwere slowly assuming an expression of great majesty.

  "There is my answer," said she. "Men of his strong attributes do not killthemselves from fancy. He knew what he did."

  "And you think--"

  "That I will not live a week if I pass that door under the name ofGeorgian Ransom. Mr. Harper, I am sure of it; Roger, I beg you to believewhat I say. It may not come here--but it will come. The mark has been setagainst my name. Death only will obliterate this mark. But the name--thatis already a dead one--shall it not stay so?--It is the one way--the wayhe meant."

  "Georgian!"

  It was a cry of infinite protest. Such a cry as one might expect from thelong-suffering Ransom. It drew her from the door; it brought her to hisside. As their eyes and hands met, Harper stepped back to the bedside,and remembering the sensitiveness of the man before him, softly coveredhis poor face. When he turned back, Mrs. Ransom was slowly shaking herhead under her husband's prolonged look and saying softly:

  "No, not Georgian, Anitra. Henceforth Anitra, always Anitra. Can youendure the ordeal for the sake of the safety and peace of mind it willbring?"

  "I endure it! Can you? Remember the deafness that marks Anitra."

  "That can be cured." Her smile turned almost arch. "We will travel; thereare great physicians abroad."

  "A sister--not a wife?"

  "Your wife in time--Ah, it will mean a new courtship and--Anitra is adifferent woman from Georgian--she has suffered--you will love herbetter."

  "O God! Harper, are we living, awake, sane? Help me at this crisis. I donot know where I am or what this is she really asks."

  "She asks the impossible. She asks what you can, perhaps, give, but notwhat I can. You forget that this deception calls for connivance on mypart, and whatever you may think of me or my profession, deception isforeign to my nature and very repugnant to me."

  "And you refuse?"

  "Mrs. Ransom, I must."

  The hope which had held her up, the life which had returned to body andspirit since this prospect of a possible future had dawned upon her,faded from glance and smile.

  "Then good-by, Roger, we shall never have those happy days together ofwhich we have often dreamt. I may stay with you a week, a month, a year,but the horror of a great fear will be over us, and never, never can weknow joy."

  She threw herself into her husband's arms; she clung to him.

  "One moment," she cried, "one moment of perfect happiness before theshadow falls. Oh, how I must love you, Roger, to say such words, to thinksuch thoughts, with the body of the brother I loved so deeply once, lyingthere dead before us, killed by his own hand."

  Ransom softly drew her aside where her eyes could not fall upon the bed.

  Harper stopped still where he was, the picture of gloom and uncertainty.

  "It must be settled now," said Ransom. "As we leave this room, ourrelations must remain."

  "I cannot but think your fears all folly," muttered Harper. "Yet theresponsibility you force upon me is terrible. If it were not for thatwill! How can I present it to the Surrogate when I know the testator isstill alive?"

  "You need not. I will do that," said Ransom.

  "And the property! Given to a man we none of us know. Property t
hat isnot legally his."

  "I will make it so," cried Georgian with a burst of new anduncontrollable hope as she saw, as she thought, this conscientious lawyeryielding. "There is paper here; draw up a deed of gift. I will sign itand you shall hold it so that whether I live or die, Auchincloss' titleto his money shall be absolute. Thus much I wish to do, that Alfred'slife should not have been sacrificed for nothing."

  "Let me think."

  Harper was wavering.

  * * * * *

  A half-hour later the door of Ransom's room was flung hurriedly open, andloud cries for Mrs. Deo and the office clerk rang through the house. Andwhen they and others came running at the call, it was to find Mr. Ransomand the lawyer hanging over the recumbent figure of the dead Hazen, andthe deaf girl Anitra pointing at the group, with wild and inarticulatecries.

  THE END

  * * * * *

  _Works by Anna Katharine Green_

  THE LEAVENWORTH CASE. A Lawyer's Story.

  "She has worked up a _cause celebre_ with a fertility of device andingenuity of treatment hardly second to Wilkie Collins or EdgarAllan Poe."--_Christian Union_.

  A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE

  "A most ingenious and absorbingly interesting story. Thereaders are held spellbound until the last page."--_CincinnatiCommercial_.

  THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES. A Story of New York Life.

  "'The Sword of Damocles' is a book of great power, which farsurpasses either of its predecessors from her pen, and places herhigh among American writers. The plot is complicated and ismanaged adroitly.... In the delineation of characters she hasshown both delicacy and vigor."--_Congregationalist_.

  BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

  " ... She has never succeeded better in baffling the reader."--_BostonChristian Register_.

  HARD AND RING

  "It is a tribute to the author's genius that she never tires andnever loses her readers.... It moves on clean and healthy....It is worked out powerfully and skilfully."--_N. Y. Independent_.

  THE MILL MYSTERY

  X. Y. Z. and 7 TO 12: DETECTIVE STORIES

  "Well written and extremely exciting and captivating.... Sheis a perfect genius in the construction of a plot."--_N. Y. CommercialAdvertiser_.

  THE OLD STONE HOUSE, AND OTHER STORIES

  "It is a bundle of quite cleverly constructed pieces of fiction, withwhich an idle hour may be pleasantly passed."--_N. Y. Independent_.

  CYNTHIA WAKEHAM'S MONEY

  "'Cynthia Wakeham's Money' is a story notable even among themany vigorous works of Anna Katharine Green."--_New York Sun_.

  MARKED "PERSONAL."

  "The ingenious plot is built up with all the skill of the writer of'The Leavenworth Case' to the very last chapter, which containsthe surprising solutions of several mysteries."

  MISS HURD: AN ENIGMA

  "A strong and interesting novel in an entirely new field of romance."

  THE DOCTOR, HIS WIFE, AND THE CLOCK

  "The story is entertainingly told...."--_Cincinnati Tribune_.

  DR. IZARD

  "Those who have read her other books will not need to be urgedto read this; they will be eager to do so, and we assure them a veryinteresting story."--_Boston Times_.

  THAT AFFAIR NEXT DOOR

  "Startling in its ingenuity and its wonderful plot."--_BuffaloEnquirer_.

  LOST MAN'S LANE

  AGATHA WEBB

  ONE OF MY SONS

  THE DEFENCE OF THE BRIDE, AND OTHER POEMS

  RISIFI'S DAUGHTER

  THE FILIGREE BALL

  THE MILLIONAIRE BABY

  THE AMETHYST BOX

  THE HOUSE IN THE MIST

  THE WOMAN IN THE ALCOVE