At this moment a turnkey came forward with his bunch of keys.
“Be kind enough to say to the governor that I wish to see him, and then conduct this young lady to Miss Leaton’s presence,” said Montrose.
The officer bowed, opened a side door, and announced:
“A gentleman to see the governor.”
Then touching his hat to Annella, he led the way up the heavy staircase to the upper wards in which the condemned cells were located.
Meanwhile, Malcolm entered the office of the governor, who was seated at a desk engaged in writing, but immediately arose, with an earnest expression of sympathy and respect, to meet his visitor.
“Mr. Montrose, still looking so harassed and ill, and no wonder! You could endure it better in your own person, I know that, but try still to bear up, even for her sake. Time carries away the sharpest griefs as well as the sweetest joys. A few more days and all this agony for you and her will be over for ever. She will be at rest, with her it will be well. If she is guiltless, as I hope she is, and suffers unjustly, as I fear she must, God will abundantly compensate her in another world. When all is over you must travel, and time, philosophy and religion will heal the wounds of your heart. Sit down here, Mr. Montrose, and let me offer you something,” said the governor, placing a cushioned arm-chair for his visitor, and moving towards that buffet where he kept liquors for exigencies like this.
“I thank you—no, I require nothing of that sort. But, Mr. Anderson, I wish to have a private interview with you. Will you be kind enough to turn the key in that door, so that we may not be interrupted?” inquired Malcolm, seating himself in the arm-chair.
The governor, in some surprise, did as he was requested, and then drew a chair and seated himself near Malcolm, saying:
“How can I serve you, Mr. Montrose?”