CHAPTER XIII.
[HUSBAND AND WIFE.]
On leaving the house Halsa and her companion walked toward the gate. She had snatched up a hat from the stand in the passage as she passed through, but had not thought of taking a cloak, and even by the time they reached the gate the steady drizzle had drenched her light dress. She stopped here for a moment, and, turning, looked back at the house. Through the mist of rain she saw the windows of the study and the lamp burning brightly. Within the study was--as she thought of him, an uncontrollable sob burst from her.
"Are you going to stay here all night?" asked Lamport roughly.
"Which way are we going?" she replied.
"Any way I choose; go straight ahead. Keep alongside of me if you can; if not, follow. I want to get out of the rain."
And Lamport, plunging his hands deep into his pockets, stepped forward at a pace so rapid that his wife was only barely able to keep up with him. They spoke no word to each other, but at intervals Lamport swore aloud to himself, and cursed Halsa. He was bitterly disappointed at the failure of his plans; he was furious with Halsa for following him as she had. He had not quite expected this. The drink was working in his brain, rousing him to madness.
Halsa felt that every step was taking her away from the best part of her life, and yet with all the sorrow was mingled a proud sense of the sacrifice she had made. Then a great doubt came upon her. Had she acted rightly? Was this man--this fiend who had deliberately allowed her to commit a crime--worth the sacrifice? No, a thousand times no. She had it almost in her heart to turn back and throw herself at Galbraith's feet, to be his slave, to be anything, rather than parted from him. Then the horror and shame of it all made the hot blood rush in madness to her face. And so, on they went through the dark street, where lamps shone only at long intervals amid the ghostly gloom of the cocoa palms, and the rain now pouring fast. Her clothes were drenched through, and Halsa felt that her strength would not enable her to keep up with her companion much longer. At last she could endure no more, and slackened her pace. Lamport walked on for a little, and then, apparently suddenly missing her from his side, turned sharply.
"Did I not tell you to keep up with me?" he said.
Halsa made no reply, but the strain was too great for her, and she burst into a passion of tears. Lamport looked on her for a moment, and then, raising his clenched fist, he struck her down.