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Page 10
"Is this--is Dr. Ransford within?" asked the stranger. "I was
told this is his house."
"Dr. Ransford is out," replied Bryce. "Just gone out--not
five minutes ago. This is his surgery. Can I be of use?"
The man hesitated, looking beyond Bryce into the room.
"No, thank you," he said at last. "I--no, I don't want
professional services--I just called to see Dr. Ransford--I
--the fact is, I once knew some one of that name. It's no
matter--at present."
Bryce stepped outside and pointed across the Close.
"Dr. Ransford," he said, "went over there--I rather fancy he's
gone to the Deanery--he has a case there. If you went through
Paradise, you'd very likely meet him coming back--the Deanery
is the big house in the far corner yonder."
The stranger followed Bryce's outstretched finger.
"Paradise?" he said, wonderingly. "What's that?"
Bryce pointed to a long stretch of grey wall which projected
from the south wall of the Cathedral into the Close.
"It's an enclosure--between the south porch and the transept,"
he said. "Full of old tombs and trees--a sort of wilderness
--why called Paradise I don't know. There's a short cut
across it to the Deanery and that part of the Close--through
that archway you see over there. If you go across, you're
almost sure to meet Dr. Ransford."
"I'm much obliged to you," said the stranger. "Thank you."
He turned away in the direction which Bryce had indicated, and
Bryce went back--only to go out again and call after him.
"If you don't meet him, shall I say you'll call again?" he
asked. "And--what name?"
The stranger shook his head.
"It's immaterial," he answered. "I'll see him--somewhere--or
later. Many thanks."
He went on his way towards Paradise, and Bryce returned to the
surgery and completed his preparations for departure. And in
the course of things, he more than once looked through the
window into the garden and saw Mary Bewery still walking and
talking with young Sackville Bonham.
"No," he muttered to himself. "I won't trouble to exchange
any farewells--not because of Ransford's hint, but because
there's no need. If Ransford thinks he's going to drive me
out of Wrychester before I choose to go he's badly mistaken
--it'll be time enough to say farewell when I take my
departure--and that won't be just yet. Now I wonder who that
old chap was? Knew some one of Ransford's name once, did he?
Probably Ransford himself--in which case he knows more of
Ransford than anybody in Wrychester knows--for nobody in
Wrychester knows anything beyond a few years back. No, Dr.
Ransford!--no farewells--to anybody! A mere departure--till I
turn up again."
But Bryce was not to get away from the old house without
something in the nature of a farewell. As he walked out of
the surgery by the side entrance, Mary Bewery, who had just
parted from young Bonham in the garden and was about to visit
her dogs in the stable yard, came along: she and Bryce met,
face to face. The girl flushed, not so much from
embarrassment as from vexation; Bryce, cool as ever, showed no
sign of any embarrassment. Instead, he laughed, tapping the
hand-bag which he carried under one arm.
"Summarily turned out--as if I had been stealing the spoons,"
he remarked. "I go--with my small belongings. This is my
first reward--for devotion."
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