sband:

'Geoffrey, was not that the click of a lock somewhere below our
window?'

But Geoffrey--though she thought that he, too, had started at the
noise--seemed sound asleep, and breathed heavily. Again Mrs. Brent
dozed; but this time awoke to the fact that her husband had arisen and
was partially dressed. He was deadly pale, and when the light of the
lamp which he had in his hand fell on his face, she was frightened at
the look in his eyes.

'What is it, Geoffrey? What dost thou?' she asked.

'Hush! little one,' he answered, in a strange, hoarse voice. 'Go to
sleep. I am restless, and wish to finish some work I left undone.'

'Bring it here, my husband,' she said; 'I am lonely and I fear when
thou art away.'

For reply he merely kissed her and went out, closing the door behind
him. She lay awake for awhile, and then nature asserted itself, and
she slept.

Suddenly she started broad awake with the memory in her ears of a
smothered cry from somewhere not far off. She jumped up and ran to the
door and listened, but there was no sound. She grew alarmed for her
husband, and called out: 'Geoffrey! Geoffrey!'

After a few moments the door of the great hall opened, and Geoffrey
appeared at it, but without his lamp.

'Hush!' he said, in a sort of whisper, and his voice was harsh and
stern. 'Hush! Get to bed! I am working, and must not be disturbed. Go
to sleep, and do not wake the house!'

With a chill in her heart--for the harshness of her husband's voice
was new to her--she crept back to bed and lay there trembling, too
frightened to cry, and listened to every sound. There was a long pause
of silence, and then the sound of some iron implement striking muffled
blows! Then there came a clang of a heavy stone falling, followed by a
muffled curse. Then a dragging sound, and then more noise of stone on
stone. She lay all the while in an agony of fear, and her heart beat
dreadfully. She heard a curious sort of scraping sound; and then there
was silence. Presently the door opened gently, and Geoffrey appeared.
His wife pretended to be asleep; but through her eyelashes she saw him
wash from his hands something white that looked like lime.

In the morning he made no allusion to the previous night, and she was
afraid to ask any question.

From that day there seemed some shadow over Geoffrey Brent. He neither
ate nor slept as he had been accustomed, and his former habit of
turning suddenly as though someone were speakin