"AT ANY COST"
The old doctor delivered the message to Luther, and the next morning he
appeared at the sickroom door.
While he was talking to Hugh, Nathan Hornby came and was called into the
sickroom also. Elizabeth was too busy with her own work to think much
about this visit, and before it was finished Doctor Morgan was with her
questioning her about the night spent by her patient.
Nathan came to the kitchen while they were talking.
"I think I'll take that youngster home with me if you're goin' t' be alone
t' day," he announced.
Doctor Morgan looked relieved.
"That's about the kindest thing you could do for this girl," he said.
"Noland isn't as well as I'd like to have him, and she's up every hour in
the night. It takes a hired girl to run off at a time like this."
Elizabeth defended Hepsie at once. "Hepsie's pure gold. She waited a long
time for Hugh to get well. Please, Doctor, don't make any such remark as
that outside of this house or some one 'll tell her I said it. Really,
she's the best help a woman ever had. She'll come back the first of next
week. She said she'd come back any day I'd send for her. She'd do anything
for me."
"I guess you're right, little woman," Doctor Morgan laughed. "I wish all
the same that you had some one with you so that you could stay right with
that boy."
All through the forenoon Elizabeth kept out of the sickroom except when
the medicine was due, and then got away as fast as she could, though it
was not easy to do so, for Doctor Morgan had urged her to entertain the
invalid and keep him cheered up, letting her see that he was more than
usually worried. She meant to live up to her resolutions, but in the
afternoon Hugh was so quiet that it seemed ominous and began to worry
her.
"Oh, Hugh! how can I do right if you take it this way?" she cried in
despair, and would have stroked his hair if he had not shrunk from her
hand.
"Don't, Elizabeth. You have asked for help. I have to give it in my own
way. I have done harm enough to your life. Make it as easy for me as you
can, for I'm only a man and--well, I've promised to help you--_at any
cost_. You've nothing to worry about. I'm no worse than I've been," he
ended in a whisper, and closed his eyes, as was his way when he did not
want to talk.
The girl tiptoed out, and left him to his thoughts. Her own were anything
but satisfactory. He was more wan and tragic than ever before, and Doctor
Morgan had especially cautioned her. She worked in the kitchen most of the
evening, keeping out of his presence, and so the long, hard,
unsatisfactory day passed, was recorded in the annals of time, and forever
gone from the opportunity to alter or change its record.
Luther Hansen came in after dark. Elizabeth answered his knock.
"Alone?" he asked in astonishment when he entered the sitting room.
"Yes. Mr. Chamberlain wanted John to bring the men over and load hogs for
him. It's been too hot to take them to town in the daytime. Hugh's asleep,
I think," she said in a low tone. "I didn't take a light in, because he
likes to be in the dark, but I spoke to him two or three times and he
didn't answer. Are you in a hurry? I hate to waken him."
Doctor Morgan came as they talked. He stopped to look Elizabeth over
before going to the sickroom, and then took the lamp she handed him and,
followed by Luther, left Elizabeth standing in the dining room. She heard
the doctor's sharp order, "Take this light, Hansen," and ran to help.
The horror, the anguish, the regret of that hour are best left untold. The
number of disks gone from the bottle under the pillow gave the doctor his
clue. One final effort must have been made by the desperate invalid to
secure for himself the drink which would wash them down without the
dreaded coughing spell.
The old doctor, who loved them both, and Luther Hansen also, witnessed
Elizabeth's despair, and listened to her story. As Luther had said a few
weeks before, he was a safe person, and her secret remained a secret.
Luther led her away into the night and sat silently by while her grief
spent itself in tears; it was a necessary stage. When John and the men
came, he led her back, and himself met them at the gate to explain.
The morning and the evening were the first day; the comings and goings of
the inquisitive and the sympathetic were alike unremarked by Elizabeth.
Only for that first hour did her grief run to tears; it was beyond tears.
At the coroner's inquest she answered penetrating questions as if they
related to the affairs of others, and when at last the weary body, whose
spirit had been strong enough to lay it aside, had been buried on the bare
hillside, the neighbours and those who came to the funeral from curiosity
agreed that Elizabeth Hunter could stand anything. So little evidence of
emotion had she given that Mrs. Crane remarked to Mrs. Farnshaw as they
rode home together:
"I declare, Lizzie's th' coolest hand I ever met. She couldn't 'a' liked
Mr. Noland very much. She wasn't near as broke up as Mr. Hunter was, an'
when I asked her if she wouldn't feel kind of spooky in that house after
such a thing, she just looked at me, funny-like, an' says 'Why?' an'
didn't seem t' care a bit."
Doctor Morgan drove home from the graveyard with the family.
"I suppose you know, Hunter, that there's a will," he said before he
helped Elizabeth into the buggy.
"No! Who's got it?" John exclaimed.
"He gave it to me, with a note asking me not to read it till after he was
buried, if he should die."
John and Elizabeth followed the doctor's rig home across the long stretch
of prairie.
"Did you know that Hugh left a will?" John Hunter asked Elizabeth, after
driving a long time in silence.
"Luther told me last night. I didn't think much about it and I forgot to
tell you," Elizabeth returned briefly, and fell back into her own sad
thoughts again.
John Hunter looked at his wife in surprise.
"Luther!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," she answered indifferently, not looking up, and unaware that John
was regarding her with a surprise which amounted almost to suspicion.
John let the subject drop, but as they rode home he had an uncomfortable
sense of unpleasant things to come: first of all why had the presence of
the will been concealed from him, Hugh Noland's partner and closest
friend? secondly, why had Luther Hansen been told? thirdly, why had
Elizabeth declined just now to discuss it with him after knowing about it
for some time? He could not put his finger on the exact trouble, but John
Hunter was affronted.
The truth of the matter was that Elizabeth had only heard of the will the
night before, and had been too stunned by other things to care much about
it. If she had thought about it at all she would have supposed that John
had been told also, but Elizabeth had been occupied with troubles quite
aside from material things, and now did not talk because she was concerned
with certain sad aspects of the past and almost as sad forebodings for the
future.
"You better come in too, Hansen," Doctor Morgan said to Luther, when they
arrived at the Hunter house.
Sadie had stayed with Hepsie at the house, and Luther had expected to take
her and go straight home. The two women had been busy in the three hours
since the body of Hugh Noland had been taken from the house. The mattress
which had been put out in the hot sun for two days had been brought in,
and order had been restored to the death chamber. There was a dinner ready
for the party of sorrowing friends who had loved the man that had been
laid to his final rest, and it was not till after it was eaten that the
subject of the will was mentioned again.
They sat about the table and listened to Doctor Morgan's remarks and the
reading of the important document.
"I have," Doctor Morgan began, "a letter from Mr. Noland written the day
before his death, in which he tells me that he has made a will of which I
am to be made the sole executor. In that letter he enclosed another sealed
one on which he had written instructions that it was not to be opened till
after his death. I opened the latter this morning, and in it he states
frankly that he has decided to voluntarily leave his slowly dissolving
body, and spare further pain to those he loves. Perhaps--perhaps I could
have helped him, if I'd known. I can't tell," the old doctor said
brokenly. "He asked me to do something for him that I guess I ought to
have done, but I thought he was all right as he was, and I wouldn't do it.
However, he asked me as his executor to see to it that every provision of
this will, which I have never seen, be carried out to the letter. Hansen,
here, is one of the witnesses he tells me, and Hornby is the other. It is
unnecessary for me to say that I shall have to carry out these
instructions as I have been commanded to do."
Turning to John, he added:
"I hope, Hunter, that there's nothing in this that will work any
inconvenience to you, and I hardly think it will."
John Hunter sat through the opening of the envelope and the rapid survey
which Doctor Morgan gave its contents before he began to read, stirred by
varying emotions. Suspicion crawled through his brain, leaving her slimy
trail; why had there been need of secrecy? Why had all these people been
told, and he, John Hunter alone, left out? Nathan Hornby and Luther Hansen
witnesses! But most of all, as was to be expected, his suspicions were
directed toward Elizabeth. She had known--she probably knew from the
beginning. She was in the conspiracy. Of the fact of a conspiracy John
Hunter felt certain when Doctor Morgan cleared his throat and began to
read:
Hunter's Farm,
Colebyville, Kansas,
August 22, 18--
Know all men by these presents that I, Hugh Noland, being of sound
mind and memory, not acting under duress, menace, fraud, or undue
influence of any person whatsoever, do make, publish, and declare
this my last will and testament.
First, I order and direct that all my just debts be paid by my
executor, hereinafter named.
Second, I expressly provide, order, and direct that all my estate,
consisting of one half of the lands and chattels of the firm of
"Hunter and Noland" shall be settled by my executor, hereinafter
named, without the intervention of the courts, and given, whole and
entire, to Elizabeth Hunter, and to her heirs and assigns forever,
and that the division be a legal division, so arranged that all deeds
to the land and all rights to the personal property shall be legally
hers.
This I do as an inadequate return for all she has done and tried to
do for me.
Lastly, I hereby nominate and appoint George W. Morgan, M. D., sole
executor of this my last will and testament, to serve without bonds
or the intervention of any court.
In testimony whereof I hereunto set my hand and seal, and publish and
declare this my last will and testament, on this twenty-second day of
August, in the year of our Lord 18----
Signed, Hugh Noland.
Witnesses: Luther Hansen, Nathan Hornby.
There was a pause. Surprise held every person present, for the witnesses
had seen only their signatures up to now, not the will, and Doctor Morgan
was no less astonished than the rest. At last he reached his hand across
the table to Elizabeth saying:
"It's an instrument that I shall get some pleasure at least from
administering, Mrs. Hunter. You deserve it. I'm glad it goes to you. It's
like the boy! God rest his weary soul, and forgive his impatience to be
off! we'll miss him," he added brokenly.
Elizabeth sat with her hands clasped on the table in front of her, neither
hearing nor seeing more. She was unaware that she was the object of
everybody's attention and that all eyes were turned on her. The merely
material items contained in that instrument were of little moment to her
just then; to every one else, except perhaps Luther, they were all that
there was of importance. Sadie Hansen looked at her young neighbour,
overcome by the fact that she was to have several thousand dollars all her
own; Luther's gray eyes dwelt upon her affectionately, glad that this last
evidence of Hugh Noland's sacrifice was hers; Doctor Morgan thought of the
power it would give her to control the financial side of her life, and
John Hunter was glad that at least the money was to remain in the
business, and ready to forget the supposed plot.
Elizabeth was aroused by Doctor Morgan placing a sealed envelope in her
hand and saying:
"This seems to be for you, Mrs. Hunter. It was in this big envelope with
the will, and I didn't see it till just now."
The girl was so surprised that she turned the envelope over two or three
times and read her name carefully to realize that the letter was for her,
and from Hugh's own hand. When at last it was clear to her, her face
flushed with confusion, and the first tears which had dimmed her eyes
since the hour of his death came to her relief. But the tears did not
fall. Realizing that the eyes of all present were upon her, she controlled
herself, and rising said:
"Excuse me one moment, till I have read it," and passed into her own
bedroom, where, with the sense of his presence, she clasped it to her
tenderly an instant, and still standing, broke the seal.
It was simple, sincere, and so formal that all the world might have read
it, and yet, it said all that she would have wanted him to say.
My Dear Elizabeth [it began]: When this reaches your hand, my heart
will have ceased to trouble either of us. I will have fought my
little fight; I will have kept the faith--which I started out too
late to keep. The little I leave you will be small recompense for all
I have cost you, but it is all I have, and will, I hope, help toward
emancipating you from care. My one earnest bit of advice to you is,
_keep it free from debts_.
I wish I might have spared you these last few days and their various
burdens, but I am sure they will be less heavy than if I chose to
wait.
Hugh.
Elizabeth Hunter returned to the table with the open letter, which she
handed to Doctor Morgan saying:
"Read it aloud, Doctor," and stood behind her chair with her head bowed
while it was being done.
When it was finished, she looked about her, measuring the different
members of the group, wondering if it said the things to them which it
cried aloud to her. The survey was satisfactory, till she suddenly
realized that John was not there.
"Where's John," she asked.
"Gone out to see Nate Hornby--he's brought the baby," Luther answered.
Doctor Morgan started for home, taking the will with him to have it
legally probated, and Elizabeth took Jack from his father's arms, and went
back to put away her letter, forgetting that John had not heard it read.
Nathan came to spend the rest of the day. He knew from personal experience
the cheerlessness of the house which has but lately harboured the dead.