The cool evening air came in through the open window and lifted the light ribbons in her lace cap, lifted the little lock of hair that had broken loose and drooped over her neck.
Still, there she lay--the wife who had loved him, the mother of his child--there she lay.
He stretched out his hand to ring the bell and summon help.
At the same moment the quiet of the summer evening was once more disturbed.

He held his hand suspended over the bell.

The noise outside came nearer.

It was again the trampling of horses and the grating of wheels.

Advancing--rapidly advancing--stopping at the house.
Was Lady Jane coming back?
Was the husband coming back?
There was a loud ring at the bell--a quick opening of the house-door--a rustling of a woman's dress in the passage.