“Do it!  I am ready.”

It was Mrs. Abercrombie speaking again, and in a calm, even voice.  They heard once more and with curdling blood, the sharp click of a pistol-lock as the hammer was drawn back.  They held their breaths in horror and suspense, not moving lest even the slightest sound they made should precipitate the impending tragedy.

“I have been a good and true wife to you always, and I shall remain so even unto death.”

The deep pathos of her quiet voice brought tears to the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Craig.

“If you are tired of me, I am ready to go.  Look into my eyes.  You see that I am not afraid.”

It was still as death again.  The clear, tender eyes that looked so steadily into those of General Abercrombie held him like a spell, and made his fingers so nerveless that they could not respond to the passion of the murderous fiend that possessed him.  That was why the scared listeners did not hear the deadly report of the pistol he was holding within a few inches of his wife’s head.

“Let me put it away.  It isn’t a nice thing to have in a lady’s chamber.  You know I can’t bear the sight of a pistol, and you love me too well to give me the smallest pain or uneasiness.  That’s a dear, good husband.”

They could almost see Mrs. Abercrombie take the deadly weapon from the general’s hand.  They heard her dress trailing across the room, and heard her open and shut and then lock a drawer.  For some time afterward they could hear the low sound of voices, then all became silent again.

“Give me that pistol!” startled them not long afterward in a sudden wild outbreak of frenzied passion.

“What do you want with it?” they heard Mrs. Abercrombie ask.  There was no sign of alarm in her tones.

“Give me that pistol, I say!” The general’s voice was angry and imperious.  “How dared you take, it out of my hand!”

“Oh, I thought you wished it put away because the sight of a pistol is unpleasant to me.”

And they heard the dress trailing across the room again.

“Stop!” cried the general, in a commanding tone.

“Just as you please, general.  You can have the pistol, if you want it,” answered Mrs. Abercrombie, without the smallest tremor in her voice.  Shall I get it for you?”

“No!” He flung the word out angrily, giving it emphasis by an imprecation.  Then followed a growl as if from an ill-natured beast, and they could hear his heavy tread across the floor.

“Oh, general!” came suddenly from the lips of Mrs. Abercrombie, in a surprised, frightened tone.  Then followed the sound of a repressed struggle, of an effort to get free without making a noise or outcry, which continued for a considerable time, accompanied by a low muttering and panting as of a man in some desperate effort.