CHAPTER XX
THE LAST WOMAN
Stephen Langdon was seated at one end of the table, Roderick Duncanwas at the opposite one. Melvin, the lawyer, was behind it. Duncan hadjust related the story he had overheard told by Radnor, and he hadbrought his recital to a close by making a remarkable statement, whichhad brought at least one of his hearers to a mental stand-still.
"I am a party to an agreement which was signed, sealed and delivered,in this office, Mr. Langdon," he said. "You are also a party to thatdocument. Your daughter also signed it. By the terms of that document,Patricia Langdon became my promised wife. Under the terms recited inthat document, she named a day when we were to be married. That dayhas come and gone, and I have received no word of any kind from her. Iam convinced that you, her father, know where she is, where she can befound, and now I demand of you that information, in order that I mayseek her. It is my wish to know from her own lips if she repudiatesthat contract, or if it is still her intention to live up to it. Ihave asked you, in Mr. Melvin's presence, twice, to give me theinformation I wish for. I have asked you once on the ground of ourmutual friendship: you declined to answer. I have asked you, thesecond time, on the ground of love and affection, for you and for yourdaughter: you have refused. I ask you now on the ground of acommercial transaction, just as Miss Langdon insisted upon viewing it,and with all personal considerations put aside. If you again declinemy request, I give you warning that I shall make a call upon youwithin an hour, for the loan I have advanced. I have that right, underthe terms of the agreement, and I shall take advantage of it. That isall I have to say. It is my last word."
Stephen Langdon left his chair. His face was cold, stern,expressionless. It wore the mask which long years in "the street," hadgiven it. He did not look toward Duncan, but turned his face to thelawyer, and said, with cold preciseness:
"Mr. Melvin, you may say for me, to all who may be concerned, that Ishall be prepared within an hour to meet all demands that may be madeupon me."
With a slight inclination of his head, he left the office of thelawyer. He walked as erect as ever; he carried himself no lessproudly, although he knew that he was going to his financial ruinunless the unexpected should happen. Twenty millions is a large sum topay at an hour's notice. It was not a tithe of the fortune whichStephen Langdon was supposed to possess; yet his circumstances at themoment were such that terrible disaster would immediately follow uponthe demand for its payment. He knew it; Melvin knew it; RoderickDuncan knew it. But the fighting blood of Roderick Duncan's father wassurging in his son's soul, just then; and, in his day, "Old ManDuncan" had been a harder and a more relentless financier than everhis partner, Stephen Langdon, had become.
"You will not insist, will you, Roderick?" the lawyer asked, as soonas they were alone.
"I shall insist," replied Duncan, with decision.
"Even in the event that I might give you the information you seek?Even in that case, will you insist upon forcing your father's life-longfriend to the wall? For that is what it will amount to."
"No. In that case I shall not insist upon calling in the loan. I seekonly the information. It doesn't matter where I get it, so long as Ido get it, and it proves to be correct. That is all I require."
The lawyer drew a pad of paper toward him and hastily wrote a fewlines upon it. Then, tearing off the sheet, he rang a bell and gavethe written message into the hand of a clerk.
"Mr. Langdon just left this office," he said. "Overtake him and givehim this message. See to it that you do not fail to place it in hishands at once." He waited until the door had closed behind theretreating figure of the clerk; then he turned toward Duncan again.
"Mr. Langdon is only a very little wiser than yourself about what hashappened to his daughter, during the last few weeks," he said, with atouch of coldness in his tones. "I am somewhat better informed thaneither of you, and in order to save my old friend from utter ruin--inorder to save his life, for ruin would spell death to him--I shalltell you what you wish to know, even though I have been implored notto do so. Frankly, I believe it better that you should know the truth,only"--he hesitated a moment--"I shall ask you to remember who you areand what you are, and to govern yourself as your father's son should."
"Well, Mr. Melvin?"
"Miss Langdon is at Three-Star ranch, in Montana. She has beenthere--"
"One moment, Melvin!"
"Well?"
"You said, _Miss Langdon_. Do you wish to correct that statement byany change of name? Was it a slip of the tongue, caused by momentaryforgetfulness?"
"No."
"'Three-Star' is the name of a brand owned by Richard Morton, is itnot?"
"Yes."
"Three-Star ranch is one of his many properties, I believe."
"It is."
"Go on, please."
"I repeat: Miss Langdon is at Three-Star ranch, in Montana. She hasbeen there since a little more than a week after her disappearance. Iwas the first to be informed of the fact. The information came to methrough a letter written by her to me. I have fulfilled the requestsmade to me in that letter--until now, when I am revealing truths whichshe wished untold. Through me, her father has settled one milliondollars upon her. She now enjoys the income of that amount. That isall."
"The letter! May I see it?"
The lawyer methodically took a red-leather pocketbook from his coat,extracted an envelope therefrom, and passed it across the table toDuncan.
"Dear Mr. Melvin," the young man read, half-aloud, although tohimself, "I am at Three-Star ranch, one of the properties of Mr.Richard Morton, in Montana. The full address is inclosed, written uponan additional slip of paper which I trust you will destroy at once;also this letter. I am with Mr. Morton; I am caring for him. More thanthat, you need not know. I desire you to tell my father that it is mywish to forego any inheritance I might have received from him, butthat if he is disposed to make any present settlement upon me, I shallcheerfully receive it. I shall not communicate with him; I do not wishhim to communicate with me. I cannot command your silence, or his,concerning me; but I expect it. Unless he should demand of youknowledge of my place of abode, I prefer that you withhold it fromhim. Concerning others, I implore your entire silence and discretion.I shall communicate with you again only in the event that it shouldbecome necessary to do so.--Patricia Langdon."
The letter fluttered from Duncan's hands to the floor. He bent forwardand picked it up, his face white and drawn and set and suddenlyhaggard. He folded the letter carefully, returned it to the envelope,and then, with slow precision, tore it into bits, carried the mass offragments to the hearth, piled them into a heap and touched a lightedmatch to it. The lawyer watched the proceeding without emotion,without a change of expression. But he gave a slight nod ofsatisfaction when it was done.
Duncan did not return to his chair. He stood for a moment before thehearth, with his back turned toward the lawyer; then he wheeled aboutand came forward three steps, until he could reach his hat which wason the table.
"Thank you, Melvin," he said. "I shall entirely respect yourconfidence. Good-day."
"Where are you going, Duncan?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought of that--yet."
The lawyer rose from his chair, and rested the tips of his fingers onthe table in front of him, bending slightly forward.
"She was a good girl; and you loved her. Don't forget that," he said.
"No; I won't forget it, Melvin."
"And--there are others, just as good; don't forget that, either."
"No. There are no others like her. She was the last woman--for me; thelast woman; and she is dead."
"The last woman? Nonsense!"
"The last woman, Melvin. You don't understand me."
"No, I do not understand you."
"Good God! Don't you see how it all came about? Don't you knowPatricia Langdon?"
"I know that I won't hear a word against her, even now--even from you,Duncan," said the lawyer, with a touch of savagery.
/> "Don't you understand that, having put her name to a written contractwith me, she would not break that contract, or repudiate it? And don'tyou see that she has intended, all along, to force me into a positionwhere I would be the one to repudiate its terms? You're a poor judgeof character, Melvin, if you don't see that. You have never knownPatricia Langdon, if you don't understand her, now. And"--he hesitatedan instant--"your association with me has taught you mighty littleabout my character, if you haven't guessed what I will do--now!"
"What will you do, Roderick? What do you mean?" asked the lawyer,alarmed by the deep intensity with which Duncan spoke those lastwords.
"I shall go to Montana. I shall start to-night. I shall find PatriciaLangdon. I shall live up to the terms of the contract I made with her,and I shall compel her to do the same. I shall make her my wife. Ishall bring her back to New York, to her father, to her home, as Mrs.Roderick Duncan. That is what I shall do. That is what I mean."
"God bless you, boy! But--it can't be done."
"It shall be done."
"But, she will never consent to such an arrangement. She is the lastwoman in the world to drag your name--"
"The last woman; that is it. She is the last of the Langdon's; sheshall be the last of the Duncan's, too. She will keep to the letter ofher contract, if I force her to it. I know that. And I will force herto it."
"But the man! What will you do with him?"
Duncan stared a moment. Then, he smiled, as he replied:
"After Patricia Langdon has become Patricia Duncan, I will kill him.Good-day, Melvin."