I asked Fortescue what proof he had of the marriage.  I began to suspect Fortescue of being the murderer himself.  So many desperate deeds were done in this country; so many dishonest expedients resorted to for money, for land.  My question gave Fortescue embarrassment.  He stammered, colored a little, then went on to say that he had witnesses to the marriage; that the ceremony was not performed by a minister, but that he and Zoe had entered into a common-law marriage.  I did not know exactly what this was and at once determined to see Douglas about it.

Meanwhile I was compelled to suffer Fortescue to wander over the farm.  He took it upon himself to do so; and I scarcely knew how to forbid him.  I did stay him, however, from looking through my house.  I saw that he was a hungry dog, an impoverished wanderer who had fallen into means, if, indeed, he was Zoe’s husband.

The question now was, how to get him away; how, without denying he had any rights, to keep him from assuming an attitude of proprietorship.  I thought it best to go with him.  Accordingly, as I had proposed that we go to Springfield at once, we rode partially across the farm in going to Jacksonville.  I told Fortescue frankly that I would have to look into his proofs, and that I meant to go to Chicago, and that it was my duty to see to it that Zoe’s murderer was punished.

I stopped a few minutes to talk to Reverdy and Sarah.  Reverdy was all sympathy and wondered what misfortune would befall me next.  Sarah wept for Zoe’s fate and for the trouble that it involved me in.  She went to the window and looked out.  There was Fortescue waiting for me, apparently glowing for the good fortune that had come to him.  And here was I in the house of Dorothy’s brother and unable to put out of mind the hope that Zoe’s death would change Dorothy’s decision, even while I was grieving for Zoe.  Like a spider at its door Fortescue was waiting for me.  Whether he or I should be more benefited by Zoe’s death remained to be seen.  As I left I asked Reverdy to write Dorothy and tell her what had happened to Zoe.

When we got to Springfield I left Fortescue to his own ways.  I looked up Douglas and asked his advice.  As always, he was busy in politics.  He was now master of his party’s organization.  But as I had tortures because of my position he had anxieties because of the lack of means.  The law business did not bring him a great deal; it could not, for his mind was on other things.  He was trying to be secretary of state in order to supplement his earnings as a lawyer.  He was catching at whatever offered to float himself along.  His life was, therefore, patchy.  Would it ever be a whole, well-fitting garment to his great genius?