"This may be my last hour of freedom in this world!" murmured Sybil to herself, as, preceded by the waiter and attended by her escort, she went up stairs.
The door of a private parlor was thrown open, and Sybil Berners entered and stood before her judge.
CHAPTER XII.
A WISE AND GOOD OLD MAN.
| A just judge; by the craft of the law, |
| Ne'er seduced from its purpose.—Southey. |
The room was a private parlor, furnished something like a lawyer's office.
In an ample cushioned chair, beside a large desk laden with books and papers, sat a venerable old gentleman of a portly form, fine features, fresh complexion, and long silvery white hair. He was dressed in jet black cloth and snow-white linen. His whole appearance expressed great power, benevolence, and equanimity.
This was Judge Joseph Ruthven, the learned jurist and eminent philanthropist, who had succeeded the lately deceased judge, on the bench of the criminal court.
He arose, with a suave and stately courtesy, to receive his lady visitor.