Sons and Fathers Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  THE STRANGER IN THE LIBRARY.

  Edward was up early and abroad for exercise. Despite his gloom he hadslept fairly well and had awakened but once. But that once! He could notrid himself of the memory of the little picture and it had served him aqueer trick. He had simply found himself lying with open eyes andstaring at the woman herself; it was the same face, but now anxious andharassed. He was not superstitious and this was clearly an illusion; herubbed his eyes deliberately and looked again. The figure haddisappeared. But the mind that entertains such fancies needssomething--ozone and exercise, he thought; and so he covered the hillswith his rapid pace and found himself an hour later in the city and withan appetite.

  The day passed in the arrangement of those minor requirements when largeestates descend to new owners. There was an accounting, an examinationof records. Judge Eldridge gave him assistance everywhere, but there wasno time for private and past histories. In passing he dropped in atBarksdale's office and left a card.

  One of the distinctly marked features of the day was his meeting with alawyer, Amos Royson by name. This man held a druggist's claim of severalhundred dollars against the estate of John Morgan for articles purchasedby Rita Morgan, the charges made upon verbal authority from thedeceased. John Morgan had been absent many months just previous to hisdeath and the account had not been presented.

  Edward was surprised to find, upon entering this office, that the lawyerwas the man who had collided with Montjoy's horse the night before.Royson saluted him coldly but politely and produced the account alreadysworn to and ready for filing. It had been withheld at Eldridge'srequest. As Edward ran his eye over the list he saw that chemicals hadbeen bought at wholesale, and with them had been sent one or twoexpensive articles belonging to a chemical laboratory. Just what useRita Morgan might have for such things he could not imagine. He wasabout to say that he would inquire into the account when he saw thatRoyson, with a sardonic smile upon his face, was watching him. He had adistinct impression that antipathy to the man was stirring within him;he was about to pay the account and rid himself of the necessity of anyfurther dealings with the man, when, angered by the impudent, irritatingmanner, he decided otherwise.

  "Have you ever shown this account to Rita Morgan?"

  "Oh, yes!"

  "And she pronounced it correct, I suppose?"

  "She did not examine it; she said that you would pay it now that JohnMorgan is dead."

  "If the account is a just charge upon the Morgan estate I certainlywill," said Morgan, pocketing the written statement.

  "I think after you examine into the matter it will be paid," saidRoyson, confidently. Edward thought long upon the man's manner and thecircumstance, but could make nothing out of them. He would see Rita, andwith that resolution he let the incident pass from his mind.

  The shadows were falling when he returned to take his first meal in hisnew home. He descended to the dining-room to find it lighted by thefifty or more jets in the large gilt chandeliers. The apartmentliterally blazed with light. The sensation under the circumstances wasagreeable, and in better spirits he took the single seat provided. Here,as afterward ascertained, had been the lawyer's one point of contactwith the social world, and it was here that he had been accustomed, atintervals varying from weeks to years, to entertain his cityacquaintances.

  The room was not American but continental from its Louvre ceiling ofwhite and gold to its niched half life-size statuary and pictures offishing and hunting scenes in gilded frames. But the foreign effectsended in this room. Outside all else was American.

  Edward was silently served by the butler and was pleased to find hisdinner first class in every respect. Then came a box of choice cigarsupon a silver tray.

  Passing into the library, he seated himself by the reading light nearthe little side table where a leather chair had been placed, and soughtdiversion in the papers; but, alas, the European finds but little ofhome affairs in one parliament, a regatta, a horse race, a German-armyreview, a social sensation--these were all.

  He turned from the papers; the truth is the one great overwhelming factat that moment was that he, a wanderer all of his life, without familyor parents, or knowledge of them, had suddenly been transplanted among astrange people and made the master of a household and a vast fortune. Onthis occasion, as ever since entering the house, he could not ridhimself of a suggestion so indefinite as to belong to the region ofsubconsciousness that he was an interloper, an inferior, and thatjealous, unseen eyes were watching him. The room seemed haunted by anunutterable protest. He was not aware then that this is a peculiarity ofall old houses.

  Something like an oppression seized upon him and he was wondering ifthis should continue, would it be possible for him to endure thesituation long? Upstairs was the little desk, the keys to which he held,and in it information that would lay bare the secret of his life andreveal the mystery of years ago; which would give him the same chancefor happiness that other men have. All that was left now for him to dowas to ascend the stairs, open the desk and read. He had put it off fora quiet and convenient moment, and that time had come.

  But what was contained in that desk? He remembered Hamlet and understoodhis doubts for the first time. It was the gravity of this doubt, theweight of the revelation to come that caused him to smoke on, cigarafter cigar, in silence. It flashed upon him that it might be wiser totake his fortune and return to Europe as he was. But as he smoked hismind rejected the suggestion as cowardly.

  It was at this stage in his reverie that Edward Morgan received theseverest shock of his life. Without having noticed any sound ormovement, he presently became conscious that some one besides himselfwas in the room, and instantly, almost, his eyes rested on a manstanding before the open bookcase. It was a figure, slender and tall,clad in light, well-worn trousers, and short smoking jacket. The faceturned from him was lifted toward the shelves, and long black hair fellin shining masses upon his shoulders. The right hand extended upward,touching first one, then another of the volumes as it searched along theline, was white as paraffine and slender as a girl's and a fold oflinen, edged with lace, lay upon the wrists. All the other details ofthe figure were lost in the shadow. While thus Edward sat, his brainwhirling and eyes riveted upon the strange figure, the visitor paused inhis search as if in doubt, turned his profile and listened, then facedabout suddenly and the two men gazed into each other's eyes.

  Edward had gained his first full view of the visitor's face. Had it beenwithdrawn from him in an instant he could at any time thereafter havereproduced it in every line, so vividly was it impressed upon hismemory. It was new, and yet strangely, dimly, vaguely familiar! It wasoval, pale and lighted by eyes with enormously distended pupils. Itseemed to him that they were not mirrors at that moment, butscintillating lights burning within their cavities.

  But the first effect, startling though it was, passed away immediately;nothing could have withstood the gentle pleading entreaty that lurked inall the face lines; an expression childish and girlish. The strangergazed for a moment only on the man sitting bolt upright now in hischair, his hands clutching the arms, and then went quickly forward.

  "You are Edward Morgan?" he said, encouragingly. "My uncle told me youwould come some day." The deep, indrawn breath that had made the newmaster's figure rigid for the moment escaped back slowly between theparted lips. He was ashamed that he should have been so startled.

  "Yes," he said, presently, "I am Edward Morgan. And you are----"

  "Gerald Morgan. But I must say good-bye now. I have a matter of upmostimportance to conclude." He smiled again, returned to the shelves andthis time without hesitation selected a volume and passed out toward thedining-room.

  A faint odor of burning material attracted Edward's attention. He lookedfor his cigar; it lay upon the matting, in a circle as large as his hat.He must have sat there watching the door for fifteen minutes after thesingular visitor had passed through. He stamped out the creeping circleof fire and rang the bell. The oct
oroon entered and stood waiting, hereyes cast down.

  "A young man came here a few minutes since and went out through thatdoor," said he, with difficulty suppressing his excitement: "who is he?"

  She looked to him astonished.

  "Why, that was Mr. Gerald, sir. Don't you know of him? Mr. GeraldMorgan?"

  "Absolutely nothing. I have never seen him before nor heard of him--nomention of him has been made in my presence." The woman was clearlyamazed.

  "Is it possible! Your uncle never wrote you about Gerald Morgan--thelawyers have never told you?"

  "No one has told me, I say; the man is as new to me as if he had droppedfrom the clouds."

  She thought a moment. "He must have left papers----"

  "Oh!" exclaimed Edward, starting suddenly; "I have not read the papers!I see! I see!"

  "You will find it there," she said, relieved. "I thought you knewalready. It did not occur to me to tell you about him, sir! We havegrown used to not speaking of him. He never goes out anywhere now."Edward was puzzled and then an explanation flashed upon him.

  "He is insane!" he exclaimed.

  "Oh, no, sir! But he has always been delicate--not like other children;and then the medicine they gave him when he had the pains and was ababy--he has been obliged to keep it up. It is the morphine and opium,sir, that has changed him." Edward nodded his head; the explanation wassufficient.

  "He has lived here a long time, I presume?"

  "Yes, sir. He smokes and reads and paints and does many curious things,but he never goes out. Sometimes he walks about the place, but generallyat night; and once or twice in the last ten years he has gone down-town,but it excites him too much and he is apt to die away."

  "Die away?"

  "Yes, sir; the attacks come on him at any time, and so we let him liveon as he wants to and no one sees him. He cannot bear strangers, but heis not insane, sir. One trouble is, he knows more than his head canhold--he studies too much." She said this very tenderly and her voicetrembled a little as she finished and turned her face to work nervously.

  "You have not told me who he is."

  "I do not know, sir," and then she added: "He was a baby when I came,and I have done my best by him." She did not meet his eyes. Hersuffering and embarrassment touched Edward.

  "I will read the papers," he said, gently; "they will tell me all."Taking this as a dismissal the woman withdrew.