When the horses were ready, the traveler and his luggage went on. The carriage soon returned empty. Durgan heard no more till the next day.
He had prevailed upon the old General to ride to Hilyard to try to obtain Adam's release, and after waiting impatiently for the result, heard by a messenger late that evening that Adam must abide his trial. Durgan was proportionately angry and distressed.
In this mood Bertha found him the morning after the lawyer arrived. She was somewhat less troubled than on the last occasion, but showed confusion in explaining her errand. She said that Alden was coming at once to see Durgan.
She added, "When I sent for him, and was so terribly frightened, I—I thought I could tell him all that I feared."
"It matters less that you should tell him what you fear, but you must tell him all that you know."
"Oh, Mr. Durgan, that is just what I cannot do—now that he is here."
"You must. One innocent man, at least, is most falsely accused. Do you think poor Adam is not made of the same flesh as you are? Think of the agony of being accused of killing one whom you fondly loved, whom you were bound to protect. Even if he is not hanged, every hour that he lies in jail is unutterable misery to him."
"Alas! who can know that better than I?" she asked.
There was conviction in her tone. She raised her face to his; then suddenly flushed and covered it with her hands. "You don't know? We thought you must have guessed; but Mr. Alden will tell you. Oh, Mr. Durgan, try to think of us as we are, not as the world thinks, and—there! he is coming."