CHAPTER XIV.
THE TRIAL FOR LIFE.
| If you condemn me, fie upon your law! |
| There is no right in the decrees of judges |
| I stand for justice! Answer! Shall I have it?—Shakespeare. |
The awful contrast that there was between her appearance of the fairest freedom and her reality of the darkest bondage!
But she scarcely realized such a contrast until that morning, when she arose and threw open her south window and looked out upon her own beautiful home valley, now fresh with the verdure of early spring, and radiant with the light of the young day. A luminous haze like sifted gold-dust hung around the mountain tops; a dewy freshness sparkled on their wooded sides; and the river lay like a clear mirror below.
"Must she leave all this for the terrors of the court-room?" she inquired, with a shudder of her shrinking heart. And for a moment she felt that even the gloom of the prison might have better prepared her to meet the horrors of a trial for life, than this peaceful, bright home staying had done.
Yes, the contrast between her surroundings and her impending ordeal seemed an awful mockery of fate!
She knew that the court would open for the spring term that day; but she did not know that she would be wanted so soon.
They were all at breakfast that morning in the cheerful front parlor.
Mr. and Mrs. Berners, their protégé Raphael, their little adopted baby-boy Cromartie, who always sat in a high chair beside his benefactress, Beatrix Pendleton who was resolved to stay with Sybil to the last, and Tabitha Winterose who sat at the head of the table to serve out the coffee and tea, because Sybil had said that everything tasted better coming from "Old Tabby's" hand—these were all gathered around the table, when Sheriff Fortescue was announced and entered the room.