The library door was hastily flung open, and Norman Lovel came in, pale as death, though he had been buffeting the winds, and with terrible excitement in his eyes. He was shivering, and cold sleet and ridges of fine snow hung on his garments and powdered his hair.
Sir William started to his feet, cast one glance on that white young face, and sat down suddenly, stifling a groan.
The young man flung himself into a chair, threw his arms out on the table, and buried his face upon them.
"Speak to me," said Sir William, hoarsely. "Is the trial ended?"
The young man lifted his head; every feature of his face was quivering. His eyes, heavy with anguish, turned upon the governor.
"Day after to-morrow they will murder her."
"Day after to-morrow! Great Heavens! so soon?"
"You will not permit it. Thank God her life rests with you!" cried Norman, passionately. "You have the power. Use it, and save the highest and best creature that the sun ever shone upon."
The governor slowly regained his manhood under this appeal. Remembering that he was chief magistrate of the province, he put aside the sensitive tenderness that had almost swayed him for a time, and asked himself whence that strange feeling had come? Could this woman's influence reach him even from her dungeon? Had the evil spirit within her seized upon Norman Lovel, the being held closest to his heart, that she might thus possess him, and force mercy from his hands?
"Norman," he said, gravely, "by what power are you so wrought upon? What is this woman to you?"