The jury retired, and, the day having been fatiguing, the lords justices determined to wait in their retiring-room for an hour, where they could be called, if the jury promptly reached a verdict. This troubled me—this expectation of a quick decision.
The judges having retired and suspended the sitting of the court, we at once went over and sat with Giles, who maintained perfectly his manly composure. He laughed with Sir Peter over some of the events of the fight between the Ajax and her two enemies, complimented Lady Hawkshaw upon her triumph over the laws of the land relating to evidence, and said many kind things to Daphne.
While we were in the midst of a cheerful conversation, and not observant of what was going on in the other part of the hall, we suddenly heard the crier proclaiming the entrance of their lordships, and at the same moment Sir Thomas Vernon entered by another door. Hanging on his arm was Lady Arabella Stormont. And then the jury filed in with solemn faces, and what followed all seemed to me like some horrid dream.
Although several persons were moving about, there seemed to me a dreadful silence; and although the candles burned, and a great hobgoblin of a moon peered in at the windows, there seemed an awful darkness. And after a time, in which I was oppressed by this ghostly silence and darkness, I saw the senior lord justice put on a black cap, and sentence Giles Vernon to be hanged by the neck until he was dead, that day fortnight.
My eyes roved aimlessly around, and fell at that moment on Lady Arabella Stormont. A faint smile flickered on her lovely mouth.
X
In that hour of horror, I became weaker and more helpless than the weakest and most helpless woman. Sir Peter and Lady Hawkshaw were too stunned to think. I remember, now, the look of despair on Sir Peter’s countenance, where I had never before seen anything but sturdy courage,—and it was an added terror. And the one who retained her senses, who suggested a forlorn hope, was Daphne,—the youngest, the least experienced of us all.
“To London!” she said. “To the king, for pardon! I myself will go upon my knees to him. He shall—he shall pardon Giles!”
We were all huddled together, then, in our parlor at the inn, having just returned from the assize hall.
“Richard and I will go,” said Sir Peter.