SHADOWS
Nan lay on her bed, fully dressed, on the evening of the day of the
funeral, listening to the sounds of the street with an uncomfortable
sense of strangeness and isolation. The faint tinkle of the bell roused
her and the maid came up bearing Eaton’s card. She had told the girl to
excuse her to callers, but Eaton sent word that he wished particularly
to see her. She appeared before him startlingly wan and white in her
black gown.
“I knew you wanted to be alone, Nan, but there’s a matter I must speak
to you about, and I thought it best to do it at once. I shan’t bother
you long. I left a dinner at the Lawyers’ Club to run up for a minute;
in about an hour I shall be making a speech; so you needn’t prepare for
a long visit!”
“I’m glad you came. It’s much harder than I thought it would be. I’m
sorry I didn’t keep Mrs. Copeland or one of the girls with me.”
“Of course, you’re bound to feel it. It came as a great shock to all of
us. A man like your father can’t pass out of the world without being
missed--very deeply missed. He was a real person; a vivid personality.
It has done me good to hear the fine things said of him; the crowd here
at the services showed that he had been held in very deep affection by
all sorts of people.”
There was a moment’s silence. The tears had come into her eyes and he
waited for her to control herself.
“I shouldn’t be troubling you if I hadn’t felt that my business--if it
can be called business--was urgent. I’m taking the liberty of an old
friend--of yours and of Mr. Farley’s.”
“Oh, there can’t be any question of liberty!” she protested. “You’re
always so thoughtful, so kind!”
“My purpose is in no sense professional,” he continued. “Mr. Thurston
was Mr. Farley’s lawyer and he will no doubt confer with you at once
on business matters. He’s an excellent man; wholly trustworthy. No one
stands higher at our bar.”
“Yes; I know papa had every confidence in him,” Nan replied, wondering
what Eaton, who looked very distinguished in his evening clothes, could
have to say to her.
“It’s in relation to that little difficulty--an unfortunate but wholly
pardonable mistake you made--you see I speak frankly--in reference to a
man named Harlowe, a lawyer from the south part of the State, in regard
to a demand he made on you some time ago. Mr. Farley explained about
it--all that he knew.”
Nan clenched her hands tightly and drew a deep breath. It was
inconceivable that that specter could reappear to trouble her.
“Yes,” she whispered faintly; “I remember. I was so grateful to you
for your help that night. I don’t know what would have happened if you
hadn’t come just then. Papa was very bitter about what I did, and of
course it was cowardly of me; and very stupid, not to have advised with
some one.”
“You did what seemed perfectly justifiable at the moment; Mr. Farley
saw it that way afterward.”
“He never spoke to me about it again; I have you to thank for that.”
“No; it was Mr. Farley’s aim to be just. Now, about this Harlowe: I
don’t want to alarm you, but I have found it best to be prepared for
difficulties even where there’s only a remote chance of having to
confront them. I merely want you to know that if that man turns up
again I’m ready for him. I have, in fact, accumulated a considerable
amount of data that can be used against him if he makes another move.
He’s an unscrupulous blackguard, a disgrace to the profession.”
“But that case against my brother is all over now. He couldn’t ask for
more money?”
“Not in that particular way,” Eaton replied slowly; “but having
succeeded once in frightening money out of you, he might try it again.
I suppose Mr. Farley never told you what I discovered--established
with documentary proof that I have safely put away in my office--that
the Corrigan this Harlowe pretended to represent was not in fact your
brother.”
He went on quickly, ignoring the astonishment and bewilderment written
on her face.
“That man was no more your brother than he is mine--you need have no
doubts about it. Harlowe’s client went to the penitentiary--quite
properly, no doubt. The poor fellow never knew how he had been
used--never heard of that money! I take off my hat to Brother
Harlowe--a shrewd scoundrel. It’s because I respect his talents that
I’ve taken so much pains to look him up! Possibly you won’t hear from
him at all; then again, you may. I’ve given some study to the peculiar
moral nature of persons like Harlowe, and I won’t deny that it would
please me to have a chance at him--though, of course, Mr. Thurston
would be quite as competent to deal with the case as I am. My aim would
be to get rid of him quietly, perhaps by methods that wouldn’t appeal
to Mr. Thurston. Please listen to him carefully, if he should come to
you. Concede nothing, but let him go as far as he will. That’s all, I
think. Pardon me if I look at my watch.”
“It’s very kind of you to warn me,” she said, with feeling. “It’s
horrible to know there are people plotting against you in the dark. I
was ashamed of myself for yielding as I did when that man came to me; I
knew right away that I had made a mistake.”
“Well, as our friend Mr. Amidon would remark, forget it! forget it! We
all make mistakes. I wish I had never made a worse one than that little
slip of yours,” he added kindly.
She had always been amused by Eaton’s oddities, his mysteriousness;
but in this hour of dejection his sympathy and friendliness warmed her
heart. She rose and stood before him, her hands clenched at her sides,
and demanded passionately:--
“Why am I always doing the wrong thing? Why do I escape so often when I
have every intention of doing what I know to be wrong? I suppose if I’d
waited another day I shouldn’t have sneaked my money out of the trust
company and turned it over to that man! But I’ve had escapes I don’t
understand; something gets in the way and I don’t--I _can’t_--do things
I fully mean to do! And I look back and shudder. Why is that--can you
tell me?”
He lifted his arm with one of his familiar gestures and inspected his
cuff-links absently.
“You’re seeing things a little black now, that’s all, Nan. When you
gave up that money you thought it was the right thing to do. You saw
the mistake yourself the moment after it was done. That’s just our
human frailty. It’s our frailties that make life the grand fight it is!”
“That’s not very consoling,” she replied, with a rueful smile. “I
suppose we never know how much we count in other people’s lives. Oh, I
don’t mean that I do--except to do harm; I was thinking of you!”
His eyeglasses gleamed as he bent her a swift glance.
“I--I’d be very happy to think I’d been of use to somebody.”
“Oh, you saved me once from going clear over the brink! You didn’t know
that, did you?” she cried earnestly.
“I most certainly did not!”
“If you don’t know,” she said gravely, “I shall never tell you. Are you
really sure you don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“My dear Nan, why do you ask me if I guess things--when facts are the
consuming passion of my life! If I was ever of the slightest service to
you it was unconscious good fortune on my part. And I hope there may
be many such occasions! But, Nan,”--he waited until he was quite sure
of her attention,--“Nan, we can’t rely too much on the man on shore in
emergencies. He won’t always reach us in time. We’ve got to mind the
thin ice ourselves--skate away as soon as we hear it cracking! We can’t
trust to chance. Luck supports sound judgment--mainly. And we’ve got to
fight our own battles.”
“But if you’re a worthless, wobbly person like me, what are you going
to do?” she demanded.
“Cease wobbling! Good-night!”
Eaton had not been gone more than five minutes when a light knock on
the glass panel of the front door startled her. The clocks through
the house had just struck ten and she had dismissed the maid for the
night. The rap was repeated more loudly, and stealing to the door she
drew back a corner of the curtain and peered out. Copeland stood in the
entry, plainly revealed by the overhead light; his hand was lifted for
another knock.
Her heart throbbed with fear and anger. Billy had no right to come at
this hour in this furtive fashion--and on this day, of all days, to the
house of the man who had so cordially hated him. She waited a moment
hoping he would go away, but he began beating upon the glass.
This clearly would not do, and she drew back the bolt and opened the
door a few inches.
“Please go away! You have no right to come here at this time of night!”
He seized the door as she was about to close it and forced his way past
her.
“I’ve got to see you a minute--just a minute,” he said eagerly. “It’s
a matter of importance or I shouldn’t have come to-night. I thought it
best not to wait. It’s really a serious matter, Nan!”
“You have no right to come at all,” she replied angrily. “What if the
neighbors saw you! they know I’m alone. You know this won’t do; please
go, Billy!” she pleaded.
“I suppose,” he said, walking toward the parlor, “that it’s all right
for John Eaton to come when he pleases, but not for me.”
“That was very different; he rang the bell and the maid let him in! And
he came on a business matter. You can’t stay, Billy; you understand
that. You must go at once!”
“Well, I came earlier, but saw Eaton’s silk hat bobbing in and I’ve
been hanging around waiting for him to go. I didn’t care to meet
him here; and as far as business is concerned, maybe mine’s just as
important as his. You’ll have to take my word for that.”
His manner and tone were amiable. There clearly was nothing to be
gained by debating the question of his right to be there, but she
remained resolutely in the parlor door, trying to devise some means of
getting rid of him.
“You’ll have to be quick, then,” she said, without relaxing her
severity.
“Yes; I understand that, Nan,” he agreed readily. “It’s about
the property--no--don’t stop me!” he exclaimed as she cried out
impatiently. “You have certain rights and it’s the business of your
friends to see that you get them. Another day and it will be too late.”
“I’m to see Mr. Thurston to-morrow; everything’s in his hands; you have
nothing to do with it!”
He took a step toward her and his voice sank to a whisper.
“That’s just it! Everything is not in his hands. That’s what I want to
tell you.”
She stared at him blankly. His excited manner aroused her curiosity as
to what he might have to say, but it was unlikely that he knew anything
of importance about Farley’s affairs.
“They’re saying downtown that Farley was a crank about will-making; he
made a lot of wills and kept them hid. Thurston’s let that out himself.
If you know this, we can drop that part of it.”
She made no reply, and her silence encouraged him to go on.
“The fact is, as we all know,” he began ingratiatingly, “that
Farley wasn’t himself at all times. He probably made wills that he
destroyed--or meant to destroy. It’s wholly possible that he vented
his wrath on you at times by cutting down what he meant to give you,
and the next day he’d be sorry for it. That would be like him. In old
times at the store he used to blow up with fury one minute and be
as tame as a lamb the next. But there’s no reason--there’s not the
slightest reason why you should suffer if he died leaving a will lying
around that might rob you of your just inheritance--that didn’t really
express his normal attitude toward you. He never meant to be mean to
you; I’m satisfied of that; but if there are some of those wills here
in the house--you would have a right, considering his condition and all
that--you would have a right--you see--”
He had been watching her narrowly for some sign of interest or
encouragement, but finding neither he broke off without saying just
what it might be right for her to do. However, while he waited a quick
flutter of her lids indicated that she comprehended. Their eyes met
in a long gaze. Her face grew white and her lips opened several times
before any sound came from them. He had drawn closer, but he stepped
back as he saw horror and repugnance clearly written in her face.
“You have no right to talk to me like this! It’s too shameful, too
terrible!” she gasped.
“Please, Nan, don’t take it that way,” he begged.
“How else can I take it! To think that you should believe me capable of
that, Billy!”
“If I hadn’t known that he had treated you like a brute and that he
always carried his vindictiveness to the limit, I shouldn’t be here.
I don’t want to see you cut off with little or nothing when the whole
estate ought to be yours--_will_ be yours if you don’t make a fool of
yourself! He had no right to bring you up as his daughter and then
leave you with nothing. Thurston isn’t going to protect your interests;
he merely did from time to time what Farley told him to do, and you
won’t get any help out of him. If there are different wills hidden
about--you may know where he hid them--”
He threw out his arms with a gesture meant to demonstrate the ease with
which matters might be taken into her own hands. In the sobering hours
that had followed Farley’s death only his great kindness and generosity
had been in her thoughts. The enormity of what Copeland proposed grew
upon her. She bestirred herself suddenly. She must not let him think
that she was tolerating his suggestion for an instant.
“I’m sorry you thought that kind of thing would appeal to me! That’s
your idea of me, is it?”
“I’m appealing to your good sense, Nan; in a few hours it will be too
late, and if you know where he kept his papers, you can easily look
them over and satisfy yourself as to just what he meant to do; and then
you can do as you like. His last will would stand; maybe you don’t know
that; and if it’s in the house, why shouldn’t you, at least, have a
look at it?”
“I wouldn’t--I _couldn’t_ do such a thing!” she cried.
“If there shouldn’t be any will at all,” he resumed, with his eyes
fixed upon her intently, “then you would inherit everything! The
adoption made you his child in law; there wouldn’t be any way of
escaping that. It’s these wills that you’ve got to fear--the whims, the
sudden vindictive anger of an old man who really meant to do the right
thing by you. Neither he nor his wife had any near kin; there would be
nobody to share with you in case there proves to be no will at all!”
“You make it perfectly plain what it would be possible for me to
do!” she replied with quivering lips. “That seems to be all you have
to say--and it’s enough! I want you to leave this house, and be quick
about it!”
“But, Nan, you are taking this all wrong! It’s not as though you were
robbing other people: you certainly have a better right to the money
than anybody else. Suppose that in one of his mental lapses he had
willed the greater part of his fortune to some silly charity; all the
rest of your days you’d be sorry you hadn’t done what you could to
protect yourself.”
“Please go,” she urged in a plaintive whisper, “so I can forget that
you’ve been here!”
“Of course I’ll go,” he assented. “If I hadn’t felt that you looked to
me at least as a friend, I shouldn’t have come. And if there’s anything
to be done it must be done quickly--that’s as plain as daylight.”
He advanced this in a crisp, businesslike tone, as though there were
nothing remarkable in his suggestions. She was already wondering, as he
meant she should, whether, after all, there was anything so enormous in
the idea. Fear stole into her heart; it would be unsafe to listen to
anything further lest he persuade her of the justice of his plan. But
he dropped the matter instantly, wisely calculating that he had said
enough.
“You know, Nan, that nobody is as interested in your happiness as I am.
If I didn’t care so much--if I didn’t hope that you cared, I shouldn’t
have come here to-night; I shouldn’t have dared!”
She made no response, but stared at him with widely distended eyes. Her
silence made him uneasy. Her black gown had strangely transformed her.
She was not the Nan who had promised to marry him--who would now, but
for his folly, be his wife. He walked to the door and then said in the
low tone he had employed from the beginning,--
“There are other things I want to speak of, but I know this is not
the time. I shall hope to see you again soon, and please try to think
better of me, Nan!”
She remained where she had stood throughout the interview until she
heard the iron gate click behind him.
She put out the lights and climbed the stairs slowly. The loneliness
that had stifled her before Eaton’s appearance had deepened. She passed
through the silent upper hall and locked herself in her room, resolved
not to leave it until the world woke to life again.
“No! No! No!” she moaned aloud to fortify her resolution....
At one o’clock she was still awake, questioning, debating with herself,
while strange shadow-shapes danced in the surrounding blackness.