Why did all present suddenly shrink back as if a leper stood among them? The dead priest lay rigid as ever, the folded hands had not stirred, the inscrutable smile had not wavered on the lips or given any hint of its meaning. Surely there was no accusation in those still eyelids. Neville himself looked round in some bewilderment, till he caught his sister's murmur of horror,—
"Kit! oh, Kit!—YOUR HAND!"
Yes, as he turned it he saw for himself, a drop or two of blood trickling from a tiny wound in the palm, made by a rough place on the crucifix as he drew his hand from the corpse. A scratch so slight that it yielded no sensation to one in his tense, nervous state.
"Ay," he said coolly, but bitterly enough, "that ends it, I reckon. Such testimony as that closes the case against me; yet, before God—"
"Hush! no more blasphemy!" It was Giles Brent's voice that spoke, and all echo of friendliness was gone out of it. "Guards, remove your prisoner to the tobacco-house and keep him close. Gentlemen, the inquest is ended."
CHAPTER XI
THE GREATER LOVE
The guards turned, one holding Neville by the wrist, the other marching behind, and thus he walked down the hall between the rows of unfriendly faces. As he passed Elinor she looked up timidly, but met a glance of freezing contempt.