Struggling to his feet, General Abercrombie cursed his wife as he jerked her from the ground with a sudden force that came near dislocating her arm.  She gave no word of remonstrance nor cry of pain or fear, but did all in her power to keep up with her husband as he drove on again with mad precipitation.

How they got home Mrs. Abercrombie hardly knew, but home they were at last and in their own room, the door closed and locked and the key withdrawn by her husband, out of whose manner all the wild passion had gone.  His movements were quiet and his voice when he spoke low, but his wife knew by the gleam of his restless eyes that thought and purpose were active.

Their room was in the third story of a large boarding-house in a fashionable part of the city.  The outlook was upon the street.  The house was double, a wide hall running through the centre.  There were four or five large rooms on this floor, all occupied.  In the one adjoining theirs were a lady and gentleman who had been at Mr. and Mrs. Birtwell’s party, and who drove up in a carriage just as the general and Mrs. Abercrombie, white with snow, came to the door.  They entered together, the lady expressing surprise at their appearance, at which the general growled some incoherent sentences and strode away from them and up the stairs, Mrs. Abercrombie following close after him.

“There’s something wrong, I’m afraid,” said the gentleman, whose name was Craig, as he and his wife gained their own room.  They went in a carriage, I know.  What can it mean?”

“I hope the general has not been drinking too much,” remarked the wife.

“I’m afraid he has.  He used to be very intemperate, I’ve heard, but reformed a year or two ago, A man with any weakness in this direction would be in danger at an entertainment such as Mr. and Mrs. Birtwell gave to-night.”

“I saw the general taking wine with a lady,” said Mrs. Craig.

If he took one glass, he would hardly set that as a limit.  It were much easier to abstain altogether; and we know that if a man over whom drink has once gained the mastery ventures upon the smallest indulgence of his appetite he is almost sure to give way and to fall again.  It’s a strange thing, and sad as strange.”

“Hark!”

Mr. Craig turned quickly toward the door which when opened made a communication between their apartment and that of General and Mrs. Abercrombie.  It was shut, and fastened on both sides, so that it could not be opened by the occupants, of either room.

A low but quickly-stifled cry had struck on the ears of Mr. and Mrs. Craig.  They looked at each other with questioning glances for several moments, listening intently, but the cry was not repeated.

“I don’t like that,” said Mr. Craig.  He spoke with concern.

“What can it mean?” asked his wife.

“Heaven knows!” he replied.

They sat silent and listening.  A sharp click, which the ear of Mr. Craig detected as the sound made by the cocking of a pistol, struck upon the still air.  He sprang to his feet and took a step or two toward the door leading into the hall, but his wife caught his arm and clung to it tightly.