Hark! What was that? The tread of feet once more and the sound of an opening door. Ah, what were they doing? What? What?
Trembling afresh she raised herself on the bed to listen. There came to her the sudden throbbing of a motor-engine. He had come in his car, then, and now he was going, going without another word to her, leaving her alone with Jerry. The conviction came upon her like a stunning blow, depriving her for the moment of all reason. She leapt from the bed and threw herself against the door, battering against it wildly with her fists.
She must see him again! She must! She must! She would not be deserted thus! The bare thought was intolerable to her. Did he hold her so lightly as this, then--that, having followed her a hundred miles through blinding snow, he could turn his back upon her and leave her thus?
That could only mean but one thing, and her blood turned to fire as she realized it. It meant that he would have no more of her, that he deemed her unworthy, that--that he intended to set her free!
But she could not bear it! She would not! She would not! She would escape. She would force Jerry to let her go. She would follow him through that dreadful wilderness of snow. She would run in the tracks of his wheels until she found him.
And then she would force him--she would force him--to listen to her while she poured out to him the foolish, the pitiably foolish truth!
But what if he would not believe her? What then? What then? She had sunk to her knees before the door, still beating madly upon it, and crying wildly at the keyhole for Jerry to come and set her free.
In every pause she heard the buzzing of the engine. It seemed to her to hold a jeering note. The outer door was open, and an icy draught blew over her face as she knelt there waiting for Jerry. She broke off again to listen, and heard the m.u.f.fled sounds of wheels in the snow. Then came the note of the hooter, mockingly distinct; and then the hum of the engine receding from the house. The outer door banged, and the icy draught suddenly ceased.
With a loud cry she flung herself once more at the unyielding panels, bruising hands and shoulders against the senseless wood.
"Jerry! Jerry!" she cried, and again in anguished accents, "Jerry! Come to me, quick, oh, quick! Let me out! Let me out!"
She heard a step upon the stairs. He was coming.
In a frenzy she beat and shook the door to make him hasten. She was ready to fly forth like a whirlwind in the wake of the speeding motor. For she must follow him, she must overtake him; she must--Heaven help her! She must somehow make him understand!
Oh, why was Jerry so slow? Every instant was increasing the distance between her and that buzzing motor. She screamed to him in an agony of impatience to hurry, to hurry, only to hurry.
He did not call in answer, but at last, at last, his hand was on the door.
She stumbled to her feet as the key grated in the lock, and dragged fiercely at the handle. It resisted her, for there was another hand upon it, and with an exclamation of fierce impatience she s.n.a.t.c.hed her own away.
"Oh, be quick!" she cried hysterically. "Be quick! He is miles away by this time. I shall never catch him, and I must, I must!"
The door opened. She dashed forward. But a man"s arm barred her progress, and with a cry she drew back. The next moment she reeled as she stood, reeled gasping till she slipped and slid to the floor at his feet. The man upon the threshold was her husband!
CHAPTER XIII
In silence he lifted her and laid her again upon the bed. His touch was perfectly gentle, but there was no kindness in it, no warmth of any sort.
And Nan turned her face into the pillow and sobbed convulsively. How could she tell him now?
He began to walk up and down the tiny room, still maintaining that ominous silence. But she sobbed on, utterly unstrung, utterly hopeless, utterly spent.
He paused at last, and poured some water into a gla.s.s.
"Drink this," he said, stopping beside her. "And then lie quiet until I speak to you."
But she could neither raise herself nor take the gla.s.s. He stooped and lifted her, holding the water to her trembling lips. She leaned against him with closed eyes while she drank. She was painfully anxious to avoid his look. And yet when he laid her down, the sobbing began again, though she struggled feebly to repress it.
He fetched a chair at last and sat down beside her, gravely waiting till her breathing became less distressed. Then, finding her calmer, he finally spoke:
"You need not be afraid of me, Anne. I shall not hurt you."
"I am not afraid," she whispered back.
He sat silent for a s.p.a.ce, not looking at her. At last:
"Can you attend to me now?" he asked her formally.
She raised herself slowly.
"May I say something first?" she said.
He turned his brooding eyes upon her.
"If you can say it quietly," he said.
She pressed her hand to her throat.
"You--will listen to me, and--and believe me?"
"I shall know if you lie to me," he said.
She made a sharp gesture of protest.
"I don"t deserve that," she said. "You know it."
His grim lips relaxed a very little.
"I shouldn"t talk about deserts if I were you," he said.
His tone scared her again, but she made a valiant effort to compose herself.
"You say that," she said, "because you are very angry with me. I don"t dispute your right to be angry. I know I"ve made a fool of you. But--but after all"--her voice began to shake uncontrollably; she forced out the words with difficulty--"I"ve made a much bigger fool of myself. I think you might consider that."
He did consider it with drawn brows.
"Does that improve your case?" he asked at length.
She did not answer him. She was trying hard to read his face, but it told her nothing. With a swift movement she slipped to her feet and stood before him.
"I don"t know," she said, speaking fast and pa.s.sionately, "what you have in your mind. I don"t know what you think of me. But I suppose you mean to punish me in some way, to--to give me a lesson that will hurt me all my life. You have me at your mercy, and--and I shall have to bear it, whatever it is. But before--before you make me hate you, let me say this: I am your wife. Hadn"t you better remember that before you punish me?
I--I shan"t hate you so badly so long as I know that you remember that."
She stopped. She was wringing her hands fast together to subdue her agitation.
Piet had risen with her, but she could no longer search his face. She had said that she did not fear him, but in that moment she was more horribly afraid than she had ever been in her life.