“We saw him—as we came.”
Hallam’s face puckered.
“Poor fellow,” he said hastily. “Ah, that was a specimen of the cruel treatment we receive. It was unfortunate. But we can’t talk about that. There they are. Remember!”
She pressed the coarse, hard hand that was holding hers as the door was thrown open, and without another word Hallam obeyed the sign made by the officer in the doorway, and, as the two women crept together, Julia receiving no further recognition, they saw him sink from his erect position, his head went down, his back rounded, and he went out.
Then the door shut loudly, and they stood listening, as the steps died away, save those of the sentries in the passage and beneath the window.
The silence, as they stood in that blank, cell-like room, was terrible; and when at last Julia spoke, her mother started and stared at her wildly from the confused rush of thought that was passing through her brain.
“Mother, is it some dreadful dream?”
Mrs Hallam’s lips parted, but no words came, and for the moment she seemed to be sharing her child’s mental shock, the terrible disillusioning to which she had been subjected.
The recovery was quick, though, as she drew a long breath.
“Dream? No, my child, it is real; and at last we can rescue him from his dreadful fate.”