The chaplain of the gaol was the Reverend William Goodall, a grave, gentle, sympathetic young man, who greatly feared that the youthful prisoner was really guilty, and earnestly desired to bring her into a state of hopeful penitence.
With this view, early in the afternoon, he visited Eudora in her cell, and sought by every argument to counteract the effect of that false hope which had been raised in her breast, and which he firmly believed was the only thing that withheld her from repentance and confession.
But to all his exhortations the unhappy girl responded:
“Oh, sir, this one little hope is the only vital nerve that quivers in my bosom; kill it, and you destroy me, even before the appointed death-day! Oh, Mr. Goodall, leave me this little hope!”
“But, my poor child,” said the young minister, gazing with the deepest compassion upon the almost infantile face of the girl, “it is false, delusive expectation, that is luring you on to certain and everlasting destruction of soul as well as body, by keeping you from that full confession and repentance which is your only chance of salvation.”
“But it does not, Mr. Goodall. I have nothing to confess or repent; at least, nothing but my common share in erring human nature; and for redemption from that I have been taught to trust in God’s mercy through our Saviour.”
The young minister groaned in spirit as he replied:
“But, poor, blind child, while you keep a guilty secret in your breast, that mercy cannot reach you; and while a single hope of life is left you here, you will not part with that secret. Abandon all such delusive hopes, Eudora; confess, repent, and cherish these heavenly hopes of pardon and redemption that never yet deceived a penitent sinner.”
“It is useless for us to talk longer, I fear; we speak only at cross-purposes. You believe me guilty, and urge me to abandon all the expectations of mercy in this world, and to confess crimes that I never committed; while I know that I am innocent, and upon that knowledge found all my anticipations of deliverance. I am sorry that we cannot agree; for I do need religious consolation and support, but it must be administered by one who is a sufficiently subtle ‘discerner of spirits’ to recognize the truth when I speak it,” said Eudora, with gentle dignity.
The young minister drove his fingers through his dark hair, and gathered his brows into a deep frown, not of anger, but of intense perplexity; for the clear, unflinching gaze of her eyes, the calm, unwavering tones of her voice, and the keen and powerful aura of truth that seemed to emanate from her whole presence shook his convictions of her guilt. He felt the necessity of withdrawing from this disturbing influence in order to examine his own conscience. Rising, he took her hand, and said: