but it was not his name that came to his ears.
"Hugh," her voice said, low and tender, "Hugh, are you not coming?" And then with infinite love and pity, "Give me your cold, cold hands, my love, till I warm them with my tears."
Ernest opened the door and stood for the moment dumb upon the threshold. Only his wife was before him, but in a flash he realized she was not alone. Hugh was there. The spirit of his dead brother had taken his wife from his living arms. He closed the door, and staggered forward.
"Where is he?" He looked around the room. His wife, white as snow, started to her feet.
"Who? There is no one here except ourselves."
"Where is the robber? Where is Hugh?" her husband gasped. He felt as if he were choking. He thought his brother was somewhere laughing at his helplessness. He flung his hands around, grasping the air on all sides. "Where is he? My God! where is he?" He was mad with rage.
