Mabin, her lame foot paining her a little, limped on after him with a sinking heart.
CHAPTER XV.
SOME EXPLANATIONS.
Mabin trudged along the chalky, dry road in the fast-gathering darkness, oppressed by fears. What if Rudolph should not be in time. Now it seemed clear to the girl that poor Mrs. Dale had started on that solitary walk in a frenzy of despair, goaded to a mad act by the taunts of Lady Mallyan.
And if he were in time, what would the end of it be? She could not marry her husband’s brother, even if she had returned the love he bore her. Yet, since he had asked so piteously for a few words with her, it was impossible to refuse him.
Mabin’s warm heart was full of sympathy for them both; for the woman who had erred so grievously, but who had gone through such a bitter repentance: for the man who, whatever his weakness, his indiscretion, had suffered and been constant.
In the mean time, Rudolph had reached the bare stretch of sandy waste which extended along the cliffs beyond the last of the straggling houses. The tide was coming in below, each little wave breaking against the white wall of chalk with a dull roar, followed by a hissing sound as the water retreated among the loose rocks.
Not a living creature was to be seen, although his seaman’s eyes saw a long way in the dusk.
The fears which had haunted him as he ran grew stronger. He looked over with a cold sensation of dread at the water beneath the cliff. He listened, and at last he called:
“Mrs. Dale! Are you anywhere about, Mrs. Dale?”
He was conscious that his voice had not the ring of careless heartiness which it was meant to have. And there was no answer.