A painful silence followed, a silence of nearly a minute, and then the judge pronounced his sentence.
"You will be taken from this place to the place from whence you came, and from there to the place of execution, and there you will be hanged by the neck until you are dead, and your body will be buried in the precincts of the prison where you will have been confined after your conviction, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul."
He spoke the words in slow, measured tones, and with deathly impressiveness. Although he was a little man, his voice was deep, almost sonorous, and thus when the chaplain followed him with a thin, piping voice, "Amen!" there was something so incongruous in the contrast that many who had been wrought up to a high state of excitement felt like giving way to hysterical laughter. Nevertheless, the utmost silence prevailed, until Paul spoke again.
"Thank you, my lord," he said. "I am an innocent man, and when my time comes, I will meet death as an innocent man should!"
For a moment he looked around the court, scanned the faces of those present with an expression almost like curiosity. It seemed as if he realised he was looking at them for the last time. It was a look of farewell. He was no longer a prisoner, he was a condemned man. He nodded to some of the people whom he had known in Brunford, and then, with a proud smile, he left the box, under the vigilance of two policemen, who led him to the condemned cell.
CHAPTER XXVIII
PAUL'S MOTHER AND MARY
When Mary Bolitho left her father on the night following the first day of the trial, she was naturally much excited. She could not understand the great change which had come over him. Never before had she known him to be so much moved by any case with which he had to do. She wondered why it was, and in the solitude of her room began to think of reasons. Had he learnt something about Paul of which she was ignorant? Had he discovered the real murderer? She had sat throughout the day's trial, and no word had fallen, no argument of whatever sort had been urged, that in the slightest degree shook her faith in the man she loved.
She quickly dismissed this from her mind, however. Whatever her father's conduct might mean, she saw no sign that he believed in Paul's innocence. Still, her conversation with him caused all sorts of fancies to flash through her brain, and, sitting down before her fire, she, for the thousandth time, tried to think of means whereby she could save him.