Mr. Ransom’s face hardened; his eyes did not leave the direction in which they were set.

“I will remember,” said he.

His companion did not appear satisfied, and continued emphatically: 

“Whether the woman now here is Mrs. Ransom or her wild and irresponsible sister, she is a person of dangerous will and one not to be lightly regarded nor carelessly dealt with.  Pray consider this, Mr. Ransom, and do not allow impulse to supersede judgment.  If you will take my advice—­”

“Speak.”

“I should treat her as if she were the woman she calls herself, or, at least, as if you thought her so.  Nothing—­” this word he repeated as he noted the incredulity with which the other listened—­“would be so likely to make her betray herself as that.”

“Let us go back and listen again at her door,” was Mr. Ransom’s emphatic but inconsequent reply.

The lawyer desisted from further advice, but sighed as he followed his new client into the hall.  At the turn of the staircase they were stopped by the sound of wrangling voices in the office below.  Mr. Harper heard his name mentioned and hastened to interfere.  Assuring Mr. Ransom of his speedy return, he stepped down-stairs, and in a few minutes reappeared with a middle-aged man of characteristic appearance, whom he introduced to Mr. Ransom as Mr. Goodenough.  The sight of the uncouth head of their youthful acquaintance of the morning peering up after him from the foot of the stairs was warranty sufficient that this was the man who had met the strange young lady on the highway early that morning.

At sight of him Mr. Ransom felt that inner recoil which we all experience at the prospect of an immediate and definite termination of a long brooding doubt.  In another instant and with one word this uncultured and hitherto unknown man would settle for him the greatest question of his life.  And he did not feel prepared for it.  He had an impulse almost of flight, as if in this way he could escape a certainty he feared.  What certainty?  Perhaps he could not have answered had he been asked.  His mind was in a turmoil.  He had feelings—­instincts; that was all.

The lawyer, noting his condition, undertook the leadership of affairs.  Beckoning Mr. Goodenough into Mr. Ransom’s room, he softly closed the door upon the many inquiring ears about, and, assuming the manner most likely to encourage the unsophisticated but straightforward looking man with whom he had to deal, quietly observed: 

“We hear that you met this morning a young girl going towards the Ferry.  There is great reason why we should know just how this young girl looks.  A lady disappeared from here last night, and though, from a letter she left behind her, we have every reason to believe that her body is somewhere in the river, yet we don’t want to overlook the possibility of her having escaped alive in another direction.  Can you describe the person you saw?”