“We were not talking quite like that, Father,” said Egbert.
“I hope you were not. I would rather not think it of you.”
“Are these words generous or not?” said Ransom. “I am not quite sure.”
“Yours were hardly true. Is it a better thing for them to be?”
“Send your family into the garden, Ninian. And come yourself with me. We will have a word together. We shall not have many more.”
“I shall like to have one, Ransom. It is long since we did so. Indeed I came with a hope of it.”
Ransom led the way into the house, and sat down with his eyes on his brother.
“Will you do something for me?”
“Anything. I need not say it. I would rather it was much than little.”
“It is not a great thing. I have lived over fifty years. I do not ask much of people. If you go into the other room, you will find two documents in the chest. Will you put the earlier one on the fire, and turn the key on the other? I am able for nothing myself. The dates will strike your eye. You need not read beyond them.”
“I should not,” said Ninian, smiling. “They are nothing to do with me. Of course I will do it, Ransom. It will be a matter of a moment. But will you not come and see it done?”
“No, my sight is failing; my strength is gone. I use neither more than I must. You can do me the small service. I am not so enfeebled that my words do not count. Here is the key of the chest. I shall not go to it again.”
Ninian took it and left the room, and Ransom sat with his eyes on his watch, finding that they served him.
“Too simple,” he said to himself. “Too simple to hold any reason. But people who have power respond simply. They know no minds but their own.”
“Thank you,” he said, when Ninian returned. “Now it is done and can be forgotten.”
“Yes, put such things from your thoughts. They are not in anyone else’s. And there may be time for many changes.”
“What things?” said Ransom easily. “Changes in what?”
“In your will. I saw what the documents were. I could hardly keep my eyes from them. And I had seen wills before.”
“There is not much time. So I will have the key of the chest. It may soon be wanted.”
“Oh, had I not better keep it? Then I should have it in case of need.”
“It has its place. It will easily be found. The people in the house will know.”
Ninian took the key from a pocket of his purse.
“You would have kept it safe,” said Ransom.
“Yes, I am used to matters of trust. I have met with many.”
They talked for a while, Ninian with life, and Ransom feebly, with his eyes on his brother. When the others came in to say good-bye, he spoke again to him.
“Stay for a time, Ninian. You want to see your girl. Take them to the gate and come back to me.”
“I will stay indeed. It is what I should choose to do. Mother will be glad to hear of it.”
Ninian remained for a while at the gate, and returned to the house with his daughter. Ransom was sitting in the same chair, with a difference in himself. He waited until they were seated, and turned to a table and took up a document.
“This is not the will with the later date, Ninian.”
“Isn’t it? What is it?” said his brother, leaning forward. “Is it some other will? Yes, the date is earlier. How many did you make?”
“The two that you saw. This is the one you should have burnt.”
“Yes, I put it on the fire. What of it? This is another?”
“You know which it is. It is the one that should be ashes. I have been to the chest and found it.”
“Ah, so you are not so feeble as you claim to be,” said Ninian, smiling and shaking his head. “And I am glad of it, Ransom. It is good news. I hope it marks a turning-point in your health. Now what of the wills? Earlier and later! Later and earlier! You have found another and are puzzled by it.”
“I have found this one. The one you should have destroyed. I forced myself to reach the chest. I had a feeling that I should do so. And it was a sound one.”
“You mistrusted me and my preoccupations? Then why did you give me such a charge?”
“No one would be inattentive in a matter like this.”
“Well, did I make a muddle?” said Ninian, drawing in his brows. “Is this the will from the chest or another one?”
“You know there is no other. It is the will I asked you to burn. The will with the earlier date. The will that leaves everything to you. The ashes of the other are in the grate.”
“Why do you not do your own work, if you are so equal to it?”
“I am equal to nothing. You know my state. This effort is my last.”
Ninian remained with his eyes contracted on the will.
“There is nothing amiss with your sight. It is the kind that is good for reading. And you found it good.”
“Then there is something amiss with me,” said Ninian lightly. “There must be, if you say the truth. I must have had a fit of mental blankness. I do have them at times. There is a good deal of strain in my life.”
“Then you stand it well. For you had a bout of something else. You read the wills quickly, and as quickly made up your mind. You thought I should not go to the desk, but took the key as a precaution. It was a moral blankness that fell on you. Your brain was doing its work.”
“You cannot know what you are implying, Ransom.”
“Well, you know. And so does Lavinia. That is enough. And I am implying nothing. I have used plain words.”
“I had no time to read two wills. They are the last things to read at a glance. They are so obscured by legal jargon.”
“You had time. I measured the minutes. You are familiar with them, as you said. And these were short and clear.”
“You have no proof of what you say. None that would count in a court of law.”
“It counts in this house. And that is where we are.”
“You can’t really think that I read them. This is just an act.”
“If you can tell me what is in this one, I will let it stand.”
Ninian smiled and shook his head.
“Then I will make the other again.”
“I do not grudge anyone what you leave her. I should wish the choice to be yours.”
“Her? And you did not read the wills.”
“Oh, it was an obvious guess. Anyone would have made it.”
“It was a slip, not a guess. It is hard to keep a hold on everything. Both of you found it so. Neither of you is versed in ill-doing. Each of you has something of the other.”
“Are you versed in it yourself, Ransom? That you prepare the way for it for someone else? It was a poor idea. Are you not ashamed of it?”
“I am not as ashamed as you must be. As I see you are. But we do not leave the matter there. You know what should be said: we have heard you say it; you have done our part. But you have not done your own. You have still to admit the truth.”
“Well, then we are a pair, Lavinia and I,” said Ninian, putting an arm about his daughter. “She thought it best to prevent my marriage. I thought it best to save her and others from her having powers beyond her. We meant well by each other and by those about us. And if we meant well by ourselves too, well, it was hardly being done for us. We could not help the breach of faith. I see now that she could not help it. Only we know how much we wished we could. We should be drawn closer, if we were not already so close.”
“So I have done what I wanted,” said his brother.
“It was an unworthy thought, to put temptation in someone’s way. To set a trap where it would not be suspected. Neither she nor I would have done it. Our trial was thrust upon us; hers by the hand of chance, mine by that of a brother. Which is the sadder thing?”