ng up and down the
chamber floor, and continuing without intermission for as much as five
minutes. It stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and all was silent
again. They knew that the general was standing close by the bed.

"My God!" in a tone full, of anguish and fear dropped from his lips.
"Edith! Edith! oh, Edith!" he called in a low wail of distress. "Speak
to me, Edith! Why don't you speak to me?"

They listened, but heard no answer. General Abercrombie called the name
of his wife over and over again, and in terms of endearment, but for
all Mr. and Mrs. Craig could tell she gave back no sign.

"O my God! what have I done?" they heard him say, the words followed by
a deep groan.

"It is my time now;" and Mr. Craig ran out into the hall as he said
this and knocked at the general's door. But no answer came. He knocked
again, and louder than at first. After waiting for a short time he
heard the key turn in the lock. The door was opened a few inches, and
he saw through the aperture the haggard and almost ghastly face of
General Abercrombie. His eyes were wild and distended.

"What do you want?" he demanded, impatiently.

"Is Mrs. Abercrombie sick? Can we do anything for you, general?" said
Mr. Craig, uttering the sentences that came first to his tongue.

"No!" in angry rejection of the offered service. The door shut with a
jar, and the key turned in the lock. Mr. Craig stood for a moment
irresolute, and then went back to his wife. Nothing more was heard in
the adjoining room. Though they listened for a long time, no voice nor
sound of any kind came to their ears. The general had, to all
appearance, thrown himself upon the bed and fallen asleep.

It was late on the next morning when Mr. and Mrs. Craig awoke. Their
first thought was of their neighbors, General and Mrs. Abercrombie. The
profoundest silence reigned in their apartments--a silence death-like
and ominous.

"If he has murdered her!" said Mrs. Craig, shivering at the thought as
she spoke.

"I hope not, but I shouldn't like to be the first one who goes into
that room," replied her husband. Then, after a moment's reflection, he
said:

"If anything has gone wrong in there, we must be on our guard and make
no admissions. It won't do for us to let it be known that we heard the
dreadful things going on there that we did, and yet gave no alarm. I'm
not satisfied with myself, and can hardly expect others to excuse where
I condemn."

CHAPTER XIV.