ISHMAEL WORTH'S NEWS.
| Even through the hollow eye of Death |
| I spy Life peering; but I dare not say |
| How near the tidings of our comfort is.—Shakespeare. |
"Life, or death?" cried Lyon Berners, pallid with intense anxiety.
"It is a respite," answered Ishmael Worth, gravely and kindly, taking the arm of the agitated man and gently leading him towards a chair.
"Only that!" groaned Lyon Berners, as he dropped heavily into the offered seat.
"But that is much," soothingly began Ishmael Worth, "very much, for it is an earnest of—"
"How long?" moaned Mr. Berners, interrupting his companion.
"During the pleasure of the governor. No new day has been appointed for her—death!" added the young lawyer, in a low voice and after a short pause, for he could not bear to utter the other awful word of doom.
"Go on!" said Sybil's husband, still violently shaken by his emotions.
Ishmael Worth arose from the seat into which he had sunk for a moment, and he laid his hand on the shoulder of the suffering man and said:
"Try to calm the perturbation of your spirits, Mr. Berners, so that you can hear and comprehend what I am about to communicate to you."
"I will."
"Listen, then. You are aware that the respite, for an indefinite period, of any condemned person, is almost always the prelude to the full pardon."
"Mrs. Berners has a respite for an indefinite period. I consider that respite an earnest of her full pardon. You do not doubt my sincerity in saying this?"
"No."
"Listen yet longer. As no new day has been set for her death, so I think no further action will be taken in the matter until after the birth of her child—and some considerable time after that event. And then, I think, a full pardon will be granted her."
"'Hope deferred!'" began Mr. Berners, with a deep sigh.
"Yes, I know," said Ishmael Worth, with a grave smile; "but hear me out."
"I am listening."
"I had several interviews with the governor, and though he was very reserved in communicating his sentiments, I perceived that he really wished to pardon his petitioner."
"Then why, in the name of Heaven, did he not do so?" demanded Mr. Berners, starting up from his seat.
"Be calm and I will tell you," said Ishmael Worth, gently drawing him down into the chair.
Again Lyon Berners dropped into it with a deep groan.
"If it were not that trouble has so disturbed the clearness of your mind, you would yourself see that men in authority cannot do these things so suddenly. I repeat that I perceived that the governor would gladly have granted the pardon immediately upon the presentation of the petition, founded as it was upon such strong grounds, and he was only deterred from doing so by the fact that at the present point of time such a pardon would be a very unpopular measure."
"That a lady's innocent life should fall a sacrifice to a politician's selfish love of popularity!" bitterly commented Lyon Berners.
Ishmael Worth was silent for a moment, because he felt the injustice of Lyon Berners' remarks, yet did not wish to rebuke them, and then he said, deprecatingly:
"I do not think the governor's course here was directed by any selfish policy. He feels that he must be guided in a great degree by the will of the people, who are now most unjustly certainly, but most violently set against Mrs. Berners. So he sends down the respite, to which, under the peculiar circumstances, no one can object, and sends it as a prelude to the pardon which I believe will certainly follow when the popular excitement has had time to subside."
"Heaven grant it may be so," fervently prayed Lyon Berners.
"And now," said Ishmael Worth, drawing from his breast pocket a sealed parcel directed to the sheriff of the county, "I must take this document to Mr. Fortescue at once."
"I will not detain you, then. A thousand thanks for your kindness! I pray Heaven that some day I may be able to return it," fervently exclaimed Lyon Berners, rising from his chair.
Ishmael Worth took his hand and held it while he looked earnestly in his face, and said:
"You have every good reason now to hope for the best; so much reason not only to hope, but to feel assured of her release, that I should counsel you to begin at once your preparations to leave the country, so as to be able to start on your voyage with her immediately after the pardon arrives."
"Thanks for your words of comfort! Thanks for your counsel! I always leave your presence, Mr. Worth, with new life!" warmly exclaimed Lyon Berners, cordially grasping and shaking the hands that held his own.
Then Ishmael Worth took leave and went away.
Lyon Berners returned to the cell of his wife. He was admitted by the turnkey in attendance.
He found Sybil fast asleep, on the outside of her bed. Beatrix was sitting by her, strumming low, soft notes on the guitar as an accompaniment to a soothing air that she was singing.
"What news?" exclaimed the young lady in half-suppressed eagerness.
"There is a respite for an indefinite period, that Mr. Worth thinks is a certain prelude to a future pardon," answered Mr. Berners, seating himself beside his wife's bedside.
"Thank Heaven!" fervently exclaimed Beatrix. "But why not the full pardon at once?"
Mr. Berners explained the reasons for the delay.
"The people are even more cruel and unjust than the law! But still—oh! thank Heaven for so much hope and comfort as we have!" she said.
"Mr. Worth feels so sure of the pardon, that he advises me to make all necessary preparations, so as to be able to leave the country immediately upon my wife's liberation," added Mr. Berners.
"That will be glorious! Oh! do you know that advice seems so practical that it gives me more confidence than anything else which has been said?" exclaimed Miss Pendleton, eagerly. "I will tell Clement to begin to get ready at once! For you know we are set to go with you!"
"God bless you!" was the only response of Lyon Berners. Then he inquired, "How did my dear wife happen to fall asleep at this hour?"
"She laid down to rest. Then I took the guitar and sang to her and she fell asleep like an infant."
At that moment Sybil awoke with a smile, and greeted her husband pleasantly.
He stooped and kissed her; but said nothing of the respite, because she was still happily unconscious of any necessity for such a thing. Neither did he speak of the possible voyage to Europe; deeming it premature to mention such a hope yet, lest she should, in her innocent ignorance of her real position, chatter of it to her visitors, and so do her cause harm.
He staid with her until the prison regulations for closing the doors at six o'clock in the afternoon, obliged him to take leave and depart.
Then he went home in a more hopeful frame of mind than he had enjoyed for many weeks.
The summer was slipping swiftly away.
Since the arrival of her respite for so long and indefinite a period, it had been deemed proper by the warden to accord to his charge many valuable privileges that she had not enjoyed, nor indeed, in her unconsciousness of her real situation and indifference to all external circumstances, had not missed in her imprisonment.
She was now permitted to walk in the shaded grounds and blooming gardens within the walled inclosure around the prison.
Here, through the influence of fresh air and gentle exercise, her physical health improved very much, though her mental malady remained unmodified.
Here, also, some members of her household from Black Hall, were admitted to see her.
Hitherto Miss Tabby, Raphael, and even little Cromartie had been carefully excluded from her presence, lest the violent emotion of the woman and the youth, or the innocent prattle of the child, should suddenly strike
"The electric chord wherewith we are darkly bound,"
and shock her into a full consciousness of the awful position which her friends were now more than ever anxious to conceal from her knowledge. For they argued, if only this mist of insanity could be kept around her for a little while longer, until the hoped-for pardon should come, then she need never know that she had been the inmate of a prison or stood within the shadow of the scaffold.
It was the opinion of her physician, and the fear of her friends, that her reason would return with the birth of her child; and they prayed that it might not do so until she should be free from the prison.
And so they had guarded her from all associations that might suddenly bring back her memory and her understanding; and therefore had denied the visits of her faithful and afflicted servants and protégés from Black Hall.
Now, however, after she had been some weeks enjoying the privilege of daily exercise in the fresh air of the grounds, and her health had gained so much, her harmless hallucination began to take a pleasing and favorable turn.
She now knew that she was going to be a mother; and she fancied that she was staying at some pleasant place of summer resort for the benefit of her health, and that Beatrix Pendleton was also one of the guests of the house; and that Lyon Berners was only an occasional visitor because the duties of his profession confined him the greater part of the time at Blackville.
It happened one morning, when Sybil was taking her usual exercise in the garden, attended by her husband and her friend, she suddenly turned to Mr. Berners and said:
"Lyon dear, I want to see Tabby and Joe. The next time you come to see me, I wish you would bring them with you."
"I will do so, dear Sybil. Is there any one else you would like to see?" inquired her husband, who deemed now that, with proper precautions, her friends from Blackville might be permitted to see her.
"No, no one else particularly," she answered.
"Are you sure?"
"Why, yes, Lyon, dear; I am sure I do not care to see anybody else especially. Why, who is there indeed, that I should care for at Black Hall, except my own faithful servants?" she asked, a little impatiently. She had never once, since her imprisonment, mentioned the name of Raphael or little Cromartie. She had apparently forgotten them, as well as all other persons and circumstances immediately connected with the tragedy at Black Hall and the trial at Blackville.
And Mr. Berners would not venture to remind her of their existence.
"Very well, dearest, I will bring your friends to see you to-morrow," said Mr. Berners soothingly.