He directed the bailiffs to replace Mac Donalbain's chains. Christine watched the proceeding in silent sadness, bowed with a sweet and melancholy grace to the judges, and, supporting her child with one arm and her husband with the other, she moved with him from the room. Arwed and Megret followed her.
'Is it really your unalterable resolution, countess,' whispered the latter to her, 'to share the imprisonment of a villain, instead of fulfilling a daughter's duty by the sick bed of your noble father?'
But Christine turned away without answering him, and approached Arwed. 'Thy spirit breathed upon me in the court room,' said she with strong emotion. 'For the kindness I met there, I am indebted to thy benignant heart. Tire not! I well know that we are not worthy of all you are doing for us; but you are accustomed to the performance of all that is good and great, and will of yourself consummate your work, for its own sake, regardless of the object. Save but the life of this unhappy man, and you shall have my eternal gratitude.'
'Listen not to her prayer, count,' cried Mac Donalbain, 'but suffer me to seek in the grave that peace which life can henceforth never give me.'
The conversation was interrupted by the guards whose duty it was to conduct the prisoners to their dungeon. Christine, shuddering, left Arwed, to follow her husband, 'Diable! Elle aime le larron, et elle l'aimera jusqu'à la potence!' cried the enraged and despairing Megret as he rushed out.
CHAPTER XLVII.
It was already deep winter, and the judges were again assembled in the town hall of Umea. Once more Arwed leaned against the window, an interested spectator. Through his interposition Megret was this time denied entrance. With recovered health Mac Donalbain, his faithful nurse, his child, and his twelve comrades, were placed before the judgment seat. The chief judge showed the seal of the envelope covering the final decision, which had been received from Stockholm. After satisfying all present that the seal was still inviolate, he proceeded to break it and drew out the portentous document, through which he rapidly ran his eye.
'Your lives are spared!' cried he to Mac Donalbain with heartfelt joy. 'The mercy of the queen has commuted the death-sentence of you all into confinement to labor in the mines for life.'
'Oh my God! that is hard!' sighed Mac Donalbain.
'That is heart-breaking mercy,' dryly observed the humorous brigand, 'which compels us, who were never fond of labor, again to begin to move our bones like patient asses day after day, until happily relieved by death. However, something is always better than nothing, and we are duly grateful.'