CHAPTER I
A BRIDE OF FIVE HOURS
"What's up?"
This from the manager of the Hotel ---- to his chief clerk. "Somethingwrong in Room 81?"
"Yes, sir. I've just sent for a detective. You were not to be found andthe gentleman is desperate. But very anxious to have it all kept quiet;very anxious. I think we can oblige him there, or, at least, we'll try.Am I right, sir?"
"Of course, if--"
"Oh! it's nothing criminal. The lady's missing, that's all; the ladywhose name you see here."
The register lay open between them; the clerk's finger, running along thecolumn, rested about half-way down.
The manager bent over the page.
"'Roger J. Ransom and wife,'" he read out in decided astonishment. "Why,they are--"
"You're right. Married to-day in Grace Church. A great wedding; thepapers are full of it. Well, she's the lady. They registered here a fewminutes before five o'clock and in ten minutes the bride was missing.It's a queer story Mr. Ransom tells. You'd better hear it. Ah, there'sour man! Perhaps you'll go up with him."
"You may bet your last dollar on that," muttered the manager. And joiningthe new-comer, he made a significant gesture which was all that passedbetween them till they stepped out on the second floor.
"Wanted in Room 81?" the manager now asked.
"Yes, by a man named Ransom."
"Just so. That's the door. Knock--or, rather, I'll knock, for I must hearhis story as soon as you do. The reputation of the hotel--"
"Yes, yes, but the gentleman's waiting. Ah! that's better."
The manager had just knocked.
An exclamation from within, a hurried step, and the door fell open. Thefigure which met their eyes was startling. Distress, anxiety, and animpatience almost verging on frenzy, distorted features naturally amiableif not handsome.
"My wife," fell in a gasp from his writhing lips.
"We have come to help you find her," Mr. Gerridge calmly assured him. Mr.Gerridge was the detective. "Relate the circumstances, sir. Tell us whereyou were when you first missed her."
Mr. Ransom's glance wandered past him to the door. It was partly open.The manager, whose name was Loomis, hastily closed it. Mr. Ransom showedrelief and hurried into his story. It was to this effect:
"I was married to-day in Grace Church. At the altar my bride--youprobably know her name, Miss Georgian Hazen--wore a natural look, and wasin all respects, so far as any one could see, a happy woman, satisfiedwith her choice and pleased with the eclat and elegancies of theoccasion. Half-way down the aisle this all changed. I remember theinstant perfectly. Her hand was on my arm and I felt it suddenly stiffen.I was not alarmed, but I gave her a quick look and saw that something hadhappened. What, I could not at the moment determine. She didn't answerwhen I spoke to her and seemed to be mainly concerned in getting out ofthe church before her emotions overcame her. This she succeeded in doingwith my help; and, once in the vestibule, recovered herself socompletely, and met all my inquiries with such a gay shrug of theshoulders, that I should have passed the matter over as a mere attack ofnerves, if I had not afterwards detected in her face, through all thehurry and excitement of the ensuing reception, a strained expression notat all natural to her. This was still more evident after thecongratulations of a certain guest, who, I am sure, whispered to herbefore he passed on; and when the time came for her to go up-stairs shewas so pale and unlike herself that I became seriously alarmed and askedif she felt well enough to start upon the journey we had meditated.Instantly her manner changed. She turned upon me with a look I have beentrying ever since to explain to myself, and begged me not to take her outof town to-night but to some quiet hotel where we might rest for a fewdays before starting on our travels. She looked me squarely in the eye asshe made this request and, seeing in her nothing more than a feverishanxiety lest I should make difficulties of some kind, I promised to dowhat she asked and bade her run away and get herself ready to go and saynothing to any one of our change of plan. She smiled and turned awaytowards her own room, but presently came hurrying back to ask if I wouldgrant her one more favor. Would I be so good as not to speak to her orexpect her to speak to me till we got to the hotel; she was feeling verynervous but was sure that a few minutes of complete rest would entirelyrestore her; something had occurred (she acknowledged this) which shewanted to think out; wouldn't I grant her this one opportunity of doingso? It was a startling request, but she looked so lovely--pardon me, Imust explain my easy acquiescence--that I gave her the assurance shewished and went about my own preparations, somewhat disconcerted butstill not at all prepared for what happened afterward. I had absolutelyno idea that she meant to leave me."
Mr. Ransom paused, greatly affected; but upon the detective asking himhow and when Mrs. Ransom had deserted him, he controlled himselfsufficiently to say:
"Here; immediately after that silent and unnatural ride. She entered theoffice with me and was standing close at my side all the time I waswriting our names in the register; but later, when I turned to ask her toenter the elevator with me, she was gone, and the boy who was standing bywith our two bags said that she had slipped into the reception-roomacross the hall. But I didn't find her there or in any of the adjoiningrooms. Nor has anybody since succeeded in finding her. She has left thebuilding--left me, and--"
"You want her back again?"
This from the detective, but very dryly.
"Yes. For she was not following her own inclinations in thus abandoningme so soon after the words which made us one were spoken. Some influencewas brought to bear on her which she felt unable to resist. I haveconfidence enough in her to believe that. The rest is mystery--a mysterywhich I am forced to ask you to untangle. I have neither the necessarycalmness nor experience myself."
"But you surely have done something," protested Gerridge. "Telephoned toher late home or--"
"Oh yes, I have done all that, but with no result. She has not returnedto her old home. Her uncle has just been here and he is as much mystifiedby the whole occurrence as I am. He could tell me nothing, absolutelynothing."
"Indeed! and the man, the one who whispered to her during the reception,couldn't you learn anything about him?"
Mr. Ransom's face took on an expression almost ferocious.
"No. He's a stranger to Mr. Fulton; yet Mr. Fulton's niece introduced himto me as a relative."
"A relative? When was that?"
"At the reception. He was introduced as Mr. Hazen (my wife's maiden name,you know), and when I saw how his presence disturbed her, I said to her,'A cousin of yours?' and she answered with very evident embarrassment, 'Arelative';--which you must acknowledge didn't locate him very definitely.Mr. Fulton doesn't know of any such relative. And I don't believe he isa relative. He didn't sit with the rest of the family in the church."
"Ah! you saw him in the church."
"Yes. I noticed him for two reasons. First, because he occupied an endseat and so came directly under my eye in our passage down the aisle.Secondly, because his face of all those which confronted me when I lookedfor the cause of her sudden agitation, was the only one not turnedtowards her in curiosity or interest. His eyes were fixed and vacant; hisonly. That made him conspicuous and when I saw him again I knew him."
"Describe the man."
Mr. Ransom's face lightened up with an expression of strong satisfaction.
"I am going to astonish you," said he. "The fellow is so plain thatchildren must cry at him. He has suffered some injury and his mouth andjaw have such a twist in them that the whole face is thrown out of shape.So you see," continued the unhappy bridegroom, as his eyes flashed fromthe detective's face to that of the manager's, "that the influence heexerts over my wife is not that of love. No one could love _him_. Thesecret's of another kind. What kind, what, what, what? Find out and I'llpay you any amount you ask. She is too dear and of too sensitive atemperament to be subject to a wretch of his appearance. I cannot bearthe thought. It stifles, it chokes me; and yet for thre
e hours I've hadto endure it. Three hours! and with no prospect of release unless you--"
"Oh, I'll do something," was Gerridge's bland reply. "But first I musthave a few more facts. A man such as you describe should be easy to find;easier than the lady. Is he a tall man?"
"Unusually so."
"Dark or light?"
"Dark."
"Any beard?"
"None. That's why the injury to his jaw shows so plainly."
"I see. Is he what you would call a gentleman?"
"Yes, I must acknowledge that. He shows the manners of good society, ifhe did whisper words into my wife's ear which were not meant for mine."
"And Mr. Fulton knows nothing of him?"
"Nothing."
"Well, we'll drop him for the present. You have a photograph of yourwife?"
"Her picture was in all the papers to-night."
"I noticed. But can we go by it? Does it resemble her?"
"Only fairly. She is far prettier. My wife is something uncommon. Nopicture ever does her justice."
"She looks like a dark beauty. Is her hair black or brown?"
"Black. So black it has purple shades in it."
"And her eyes? Black too?"
"No, gray. A deep gray, which look black owing to her long lashes."
"Very good. Now about her dress. Describe it as minutely as you can. Itwas a bride's traveling costume, I suppose."
"Yes. That is, I presume so. I know that it was all right and suitable tothe occasion, but I don't remember much about it. I was thinking too muchof the woman in the gown to notice the gown itself."
"Cannot you tell the color?"
"It was a dark one. I'm sure it was a dark one, but colors are not muchin my line. I know she looked well--they can tell you about it at thehouse. All that I distinctly remember is the veil she had wound sotightly around her face and hat to keep the rice out of her hair thatI could not get one glimpse of her features. All nonsense that veil,especially when I had promised not to address her or even to touch herin the cab. And she wore it into the office. If it had not been for thatI might have foreseen her intention in time to prevent it."
"Perhaps she knew that."
"It looks as if she did."
"Which means that she was meditating flight from the first."
"From the time she saw that man," Mr. Ransom corrected.
"Just so; from the time she left her uncle's house. Your wife is a womanof means, I believe."
"Yes, unfortunately."
"Why unfortunately?"
"It makes her independent and offers a lure to irresponsible wretcheslike him."
"Her fortune is large, then?"
"Very large; larger than my own."
Every one knew Mr. Ransom to be a millionaire.
"Left her by her father?"
"No, by some great-uncle, I believe, who made his fortune in theKlondike."
"And entirely under her own control?"
"Entirely so."
"Who is her man of business?"
"Edward Harper, of--Wall Street."
"He's your man. He'll know sooner or later where she is."
"Yes, but later won't do. I must know to-night; or, if that isimpossible, to-morrow. Were it not for the mortification it would causeher I should beg you to put on all your force and ransack the city forthis bride of five hours. But such publicity is too shocking. I shouldlike to give her a day to reconsider her treatment of me. She cannot meanto leave me for good. She has too much self-respect; to say nothing ofher very positive and not to be questioned affection for myself."
The detective looked thoughtful. The problem had its difficulties.
"Are those hers?" he asked at last, pointing to the two trunks he sawstanding against the wall.
"Yes. I had them brought up, in the hope that she had slipped away onsome foolish errand or other and would yet come back."
"By their heft I judge them to be full; how about her hand-bag?"
"She had only a small bag and an umbrella. They are both here."
"How's that?"
"The colored boy took them at the door. She went away with nothing in herhands."
Gerridge glanced at the bag Mr. Ransom had pointed out, fingered it, thenasked the young husband to open it.
He did so. The usual articles and indispensable adjuncts of a nicewoman's toilet met their eyes. Also a pocketbook containing considerablemoney and a case holding more than one valuable jewel.
The eyes of the officer and manager met in ill disguised alarm.
"She must have been under the most violent excitement to slip awaywithout these," suggested the former. "I'd better be at work. Give me twohours," were his parting words to Mr. Ransom. "By that time I'll eitherbe back or telephone you. You had better stay here; she may return.Though I don't think that likely," he muttered as he passed the manager.
At the door he stopped. "You can't tell me the color of that veil?"
"No."
"Look about the room, sir. There's lots of colors in the furniture andhangings. Don't you see one somewhere that reminds you of her veil oreven of her dress?"
The miserable bridegroom looked up from the bag into which he was stillstaring and, glancing slowly around him, finally pointed at a chairupholstered in brown and impulsively said:
"The veil was like that; I remember now. Brown, isn't it? a dark brown?"
"Yes. And the dress?"
"I can't tell you a thing about the dress. But her gloves--I remembersomething about them. They were so tight they gaped open at the wrist.Her hands looked quite disfigured. I wondered that so sensible a womanshould buy gloves at least two sizes too small for her. I think she wasashamed of them herself, for she tried to hide them after she saw melooking."
"This was in the cab?"
"Yes."
"Where you didn't speak a word?"
"Not a word."
"Though she seemed so very much cut up?"
"No, she didn't seem cut up; only tired."
"How tired?"
"She sat with her head pressed against the side of the cab."
"And a little turned away?"
"Yes."
"As if she shrank from you?"
"A little so."
"Did she brighten when the carriage stopped?"
"She started upright."
"Did you help her out?"
"No, I had promised not to touch her."
"She jumped out after you?"
"Yes."
"And never spoke?"
"Not a word."
Gerridge opened the door, motioned for the manager to follow, and, oncein the hall, remarked to that gentleman:
"I should like to see the boy who took her bag and was with them when sheslipped away."