How bitterly he deplored the crimes that had exposed him to this fate. How deeply he cursed the siren whose fatal beauty had lured him to sin. How passionately he longed for death, as the only deliverance from the memory of the past, the terrors of the present, the horrors of the future. Day and night that appalling future stared him in the face. Day and night the picture of himself working in chains, pointed out, stared at, was before his mind's eyes.
By day it obtruded between him and the face of any visitor that might be with him. Even when in consultation with his counsel his mind would wander from the subject in hand, and his imagination would be drawn away to the contemplation of that dread picture.
By night it would rise up in the darkness and nearly drive him mad.
He could not eat, he could not sleep. He passed his days in pacing to and fro in his narrow cell, and his nights in tossing about upon his restless bed. His sufferings were pitiable, and his worst enemy must have felt sorry for him.
His condition moved the compassion of the warden, and every indulgence that was in the power of old Saundie to bestow was granted to him. And as he was not yet absolutely convicted, but only waiting his trial, these indulgences were considerable. Old Cuthbert was allowed to visit him freely during the day, and to bring him anything in the way of food, drink, clothing, books, stationery, etc., that he required. And very little supervision was exercised over these matters.
Meantime as the Assizes were sitting, and the docket was not very full, it was thought that the trial would soon come on.
On the Wednesday following the committal of the viscount the trial of the murderer, Frisbie, which stood before that of his master on the docket, did come on. The detective police had been busy during the interval between Frisbie's arrest and arraignment, and they had succeeded in collecting a mass of evidence and a number of witnesses besides old Katie.
Frisbie, however, was defended by the best counsel that mere money could procure. There are many among the best lawyers who will not take up a bad case at any price. But Frisbie, as I said, had the best among the unscrupulous that money could buy. His master of course paid the fees. His counsel very gratuitously instructed him to plead "Not Guilty," and of course he did plead "Not Guilty." And his counsel did the best thing they could to establish his innocence. But the evidence against him was conclusive. And on the morning of the second day of his trial Frisbie was found guilty and sentenced to death. But a short period between sentence and execution was then allowed in Scotland. The execution of Frisbie was fixed for the Monday following his conviction.
From the hour that Frisbie had been brought to trial the viscount had experienced the most vehement accession of anxiety. He refused all food during the day, and he paced the floor of his cell all night. And well he might; for he knew that on that trial revelations would be made under oath that would not tend to whiten Lord Vincent's character.
On Thursday noon Mr. Bruce entered his cell.