Lulu drew close to him, and asked, in a shocked whisper, "Dead?"
"Dead!"
"But you had a good reason, David; I know you had. He would have shot you?—it was in self-defence?—it was an accident? Speak, dear!"
"He called me a coward, and—"
"You shot him! Then you are a coward, sir!" said Lorimer, sternly; "and having made yourself fit for the gallows, you are a double coward to come here and force upon me the duty of arresting you. Put down your rifle, sir!"
Lulu uttered a long low wail. "Oh, David, my love! why did you come here? Did you hope for pity or help in his heart? And what can I do Davie, but suffer with you?" But she drew his face down and kissed it with a solemn tenderness that taught the wretched man, in one moment, all the blessedness of a woman's devotion, and all the misery that the indulgence of his ungovernable temper had caused him.
"We will hae no more heroics, Lulu. As a magistrate and a citizen it is my duty to arrest a murderer on his ain confession."
"Your duty!" she answered, in a passion of scorn. "Had you done your duty to David in the past years, this duty would not have been to do. Your duty or anything belonging to yourself, has always been your sole care. Wrong Davie, wrong me, slay love outright, but do your duty, and stand well with the world and yourself! Uncle, you are a dreadful Christian!"
"How dare you judge me, Lulu? Go to your own room at once!"
"David, dearest, farewell! Fly!—you will get no pity here. Fly!"