He left the room. She was afraid that he would lock the door behind him, but he was evidently too wholly unsuspicious of the true state of the case to think of doing anything of the kind. In a moment her resolution was formed, with such strength as was left to her. She waited till she heard that his footsteps had receded along the passage. Then she too stole from the room. She crept along the passage with as little noise as possible. She reached the front door. The hall was in darkness; she fumbled with the latch, the sound reaching the keen ears of Captain Jim.
"What's that? Who's there?"
She found the handle; the door was open. Captain Jim came running along the passage. But with all his haste, he was too late. She was through the door, half a dozen paces away. The street was a mean one, dark and deserted. But, some hundred yards off, there was the gleam of lights, the roar of traffic, and evidently close at hand was some big thoroughfare. If she could only reach it she might be safe. Despair--the consciousness that it was now or never--lent her wings. She ran as she had never run before. Yet the man behind her ran faster still. She knew he gained. Another effort--still she might be at the corner first. As she reached it, he caught her by the shoulder. His voice was hoarse with rage.
"What the devil does this mean? What little game do you think you're up to?"
"Help! Help!" she screamed.
Just as the man was beginning to draw her back into the side street someone came hurrying towards her across the pavement. Someone, who, without the slightest hesitation, struck Captain Jim full in the face, with such force and such science, that that gentleman went down like a ninepin.
"You villain!" exclaimed a voice--which sounded to the girl like a voice from heaven. "What are you doing to this lady?"
"Frank!" she cried.
"Edith? Great heavens! is it you?"
In another moment the wife was crying in her husband's arms.