"Good-morning, Mr. Fortescue. Thanks for your call. When you come again—" she began smilingly, but lost the connection of her ideas, and with a look of distress and perplexity she sent her fingers straying over the counterpane, as if in search of something.
With a deep sigh the sheriff left the cell.
And at the same time Lyon Berners quietly kissed his wife, and withdrew.
Mr. Berners went at once to the hotel where Ishmael Worth lodged.
On inquiry at the office, he found that Mr. Worth was in his room. Without waiting to send up his name first, he desired to be immediately shown up to Mr. Worth's presence.
He found the young lawyer sitting at a table, deeply immersed in documents. He was about to apologize for his unceremonious intrusion, when Mr. Worth arose, and with grave courtesy and earnest sympathy, informed his visitor that he had already heard, with deep sorrow, the adverse decision of the governor.
Mr. Berners covered his face with his hand for a moment, and then sank into the chair placed for him by Mr. Worth.
As soon as he had recovered himself, he entered upon the subject of his visit—the insanity of Sybil, and the use that might be made of it in gaining a respite that should prolong her life for some months, until perhaps she might be permitted to die a natural death.
"Her state, as you represent it, gives me hopes of obtaining not only a respite, but a full pardon," said Ishmael Worth, when Mr. Berners had finished his account.
"I scarcely dared to hope as much as that," sighed Mr. Berners.