The Chief Legatee | Page 7

strange features,--as it was. But that dress was brown; I'm

sure of it. She was the very woman. Otherwise the mystery is
impenetrable. A deep plot, Mr. Ransom; one that should prove to you
that Mrs. Ransom's motive in leaving you was of a very serious
character. Do you wish that motive probed to the bottom? I cannot do it
without publicity. Are you willing to incur that publicity?"
"I must." Mr. Ransom had risen in great excitement. "Nothing can hide
the fact that my bride left me on our wedding-day. It only remains now
to show that she did it under an influence which robbed her of her own
will; an influence from which she shrank even while succumbing to it. I
can show her no greater kindness, and I am not afraid of the result. I
have perfect confidence in her integrity"--he hesitated, then added with
strong conviction--"and in her love."
The detective hid his surprise. He could not understand this confidence.
But then he knew nothing of the memories which lay back of it. Not to
him could this grievously humiliated and disappointed man reveal the
secrets of a courtship which had fixed his heart on this one woman, and
aroused in him such trust that even this uncalled-for outrage to his pride
and affection had not been able to shake it. Such secrets are sacred; but
the reflection of his trust was strong on his face as he repeated:
"Perfect confidence, Mr. Gerridge. Whatever may have drawn Mrs.
Ransom from my side, it was not lack of affection, or any doubt of my
sincerity or undivided attachment to herself."
The detective may not have been entirely convinced on the first point,
but he was discretion itself, and responded quite cheerfully with an
emphatic:
"Very well. You still want me to find her. I will do my best, sir; but
first, cannot you help me with a suggestion or two?"
"I?"
"There must be some clew to so sudden a freak on the part of a young
and beautiful woman, who, I have taken pains to learn, has not only a
clean record but a reputation for good sense. The Fultons cannot supply

it. She has lived a seemingly open and happy life in their house, and the
mystery is as great to them as to you. But you, as her lover and now her
husband, must have been favored with confidences not given to others.
Cannot you recall one likely to put us on the right track? Some fact
prior to the events of to-day, I mean; some fact connected with her past
life; before she went to live with the Fultons?"
"No. Yet let me think; let me think." Mr. Ransom dropped his face into
his hands and sat for a moment silent. When he looked up again, the
detective perceived that the affair was hopeless so far as he was
concerned. "No," he repeated, this time with unmistakable emphasis,
"she has always appeared buoyant and untrammeled. But then I have
only known her six months."
"Tell me her history so far as you know it. What do you know of her
life previous to your meeting her?"
"It was a very simple one. She had a country bringing up, having been
born in a small village in Connecticut. She was one of three children
and the only one who has survived; her sister, who was her twin, died
when she was a small child, and a brother some five years ago. Her
fortune was willed her, as I have already told you, by a great-uncle. It is
entirely in her own hands. Left an orphan early, she lived first with her
brother; then when he died, with one relative after another, till lastly
she settled down with the Fultons. I know of no secret in her life, no
entanglement, not even of any prior engagements. Yet that man with
the twisted jaw was not unknown to her, and if he is a relative, as she
said, you should have no difficulty in locating him."
"I have a man on his track," Gerridge replied. "And one on the girl's too;
I mean, of course, Bela Burton's. They will report here up to twelve
o'clock to-night. It is now half-past eleven. We should hear from one or
the other soon."
"And my wife?"
"A description of the clothing she wore has gone out. We may hear
from it. But I doubt if we do to-night unless she has rejoined her maid

or the man with a scar. Somehow I think she will join the girl. But it's
hard to tell yet."
Mr. Ransom could hardly control his impatience. "And I must sit
helpless here!" he exclaimed. "I who have so much at stake!"
The detective evidently thought the occasion