What to make of it I didn’t know, and said so, upon which the stage-driver rather pettishly suggested that ’twouldn’t take long to find out if I got behind Markson’s team; and, as I agreed with him, I changed conveyances, and was soon at Markson’s house.
Helen met me at the door, and led me immediately to Markson’s chamber. The distance from the door of his room to the side of his bed couldn’t have been more than twenty feet, yet, in passing over it, it seemed to me that I imagined at least fifty reasons why the sick man had sent for me, but not one of the fifty was either sensible or satisfactory.
I was even foolish enough to imagine Markson’s conscience was troubled, and that he was going to pay me some money which he justly owed me, whereas he had paid me every cent, according to contract.
We reached his bedside before I had determined what it could be. Helen took his hand, and said:
“Father, here is Mr. Raines.”
Markson, who was lying motionless, with his face to the wall, turned quickly over and grasped my hand and beckoned me closer. I put my head down, and he whispered:
“I’m glad you’ve come; I want to ask you a favor—a dying man’s last request. You’re an honest man (N.B.—People intending to build will please make a note of this.—J.R.), I am sure, and I want you to help me do justice. You have seen my wife; she can be a tiger when she wants to. She married me for money; she thinks the will I made some time ago, leaving everything to her, is my last. But it is not. I’ve deceived her, for the sake of peace. I made one since, leaving the bulk of my property to Helen; it came to me through her dear mother. I know nobody to trust it with. Mrs. Markson can wrap almost any one around her finger when she tries, and—”
His breath began to fail, and the entrance of his wife did not seem to strengthen him any; but he finally regained it, and continued:
“She will try it with you; but you are cool as well as honest, I believe. I meant to tell Helen where the will was the day after I put it there; but she was so young—it seemed dreadful to let her know how cowardly her father was—how he feared her. Get it—get a good lawyer—see she has her rights. I put it—no one could suspect where—I put it—in—the—”
His breath failed him entirely, and he fixed his eyes on mine with an agonized expression which makes me shiver whenever I think of it. Suddenly his strange operation with that sill, of which I had not thought for a long time, came into my mind, and I whispered, quickly:
“In the sill of the house?”
His expression instantly changed to a very happy one, and yet he looked wonderstruck, which was natural enough.
“I saw you put it there,” said I. “But,” I continued, fearing the dying man might suspect me of spying, and so fear he had mistaken my character—“but I did not mean to—I was on the ground when you came there that evening; and when I saw what you were doing, I could not move for fear of disturbing you. I know where to find it, and I can swear you put it there.”