"I must go now," said the judge. "But I shall come again. I shall never cease coming until I have won your love. Paul, I cannot live without it now! Look into my eyes, my son; can you not see? Can you not understand?"
In spite of himself Paul did as his father had told him, and realised how the proud man was humbling himself. He saw the lines of pain upon his face, saw, too, the look of infinite yearning and tenderness in his eyes; and he felt that his own were filled with tears. But still he hardened himself and made no sign.
The judge threw his arms round Paul's neck.
"Paul, my son, my son! Forgive me!" he said, "and love me!"
And Paul did not repulse him, even although he did not yield to his father's entreaties.
There was a sound of footsteps in the corridor, the noise of the key turning in the lock. A minute later Judge Bolitho had left the cell; and then Paul threw himself on the couch, while his frame shook with mighty sobs.
Judge Bolitho left Strangeways Gaol without speaking a word. In spite of everything he felt his visit had not been in vain. There was a joy in his heart for which he could not account.
"Some day he will know," he said to himself. "Some day he will know, if he lives! And I must save him. I do not believe he is guilty—he cannot be. He is hiding something from me. He is shielding someone. I must find out."
It was quite dark by now, and it was some time before he found a cab. A little later, however, he was back in his hotel again. It seemed to him as though his powers of action were coming back. He was no longer bewildered and overwhelmed as he had been.
"Is Miss Bolitho here?" he said to a servant who answered his call.