"Not yet, sir!" answered the constable, still speaking through the door. "The jury is summoned for five o'clock, I hear."
Captain Delaware looked at his watch. It was just three; and for the long hours that succeeded, he continued in the same frame of mind, torturing himself with all those dreamy miseries that an imaginative and impatient heart calls up constantly to aggravate all the ills of misfortune or disappointment. There is no such terrible tamer of the spirit as solitary confinement; and, ere nightfall, the whole hopes and expectations of William Delaware were completely sunk, and the state of his mind was pure despair.
His dinner, which had been brought in by one of the constables at five, remained untouched; and he listened to every sound, expecting each moment to be called before the coroner; but no summons came. At length, just as night was approaching, he heard a considerable sound of voices in the anteroom; and, starting up, he prepared to go along with the messenger, who, he doubted not, had been despatched for him; but the sound subsided, and, in a minute after, the constable again entered the room.
"You had better take something really, Captain," said the man kindly, eyeing the untasted dinner. "There is no use, you know, sir, of letting your heart get down that way."
"I have been expecting to be sent for every minute," replied the prisoner; "and I cannot eat in such a state of anxiety."
"You will not be sent for to-night, Captain," replied the constable.
"Has the coroner sat, then?" demanded Captain Delaware.
"Ay, sir!" was the answer.
"And what is the verdict?" cried the accused, fixing his eyes eagerly upon the officer's face.
"Wilful murder, sir!" answered the constable, shaking his head.