CHAPTER XIII.





AS General and Mrs. Abercrombie reached the vestibule, and the door
shut behind them, the latter, seeing, that her husband was going out
into the storm, which was now at its height, drew back, asking at
the same time if their carriage had been called.

The only answer made by General Abercrombie was a fiercely-uttered
imprecation. Seizing at the same time the arm she had dropped from
his, he drew her out of the vestibule and down the snow-covered step
with a sudden violence that threw her to the ground. As he dragged
her up he cursed her again in a cruel undertone, and then, grasping
her arm, moved off in the very teeth of the blinding tempest, going
so swiftly that she could not keep pace with him. Before they had
gone a dozen steps she fell again.

Struggling to her feet, helped up by the strong grasp of the madman
whose hand was upon her arm, Mrs. Abercrombie tried to rally her
bewildered thoughts. She knew that her life was in danger, but she
knew also that much, if not everything, depended on her own conduct.