“For life?”
“For life.”
Sylvia turned to her father with breathless inquiry in her eyes. “Oh, papa! who is that speaking? I know the name! the voice!”
“That is the man who was with you in the boat, dear,” says Vickers gravely. “The prisoner.”
The eager light died out of her eyes, and in its place came a look of disappointment and pain. “I thought it was a good man,” she said, holding by the edge of the doorway. “It sounded like a good voice.”
And then she pressed her hands over her eyes and shuddered. “There, there,” says Vickers soothingly, “don't be afraid, Poppet; he can't hurt you now.”
“No, ha! ha!” says Meekin, with great display of off-hand courage, “the villain's safe enough now.”
The colloquy in the Court went on. “Do you know the prisoners in the dock?”
“Yes.” “Who are they?”
“John Rex, Henry Shiers, James Lesly, and, and—I'm not sure about the last man.” “You are not sure about the last man. Will you swear to the three others?”