"You mean, Uncle Felix—"
"That your love for him will make you forget the deed."
She drew a long sigh, and clung closer to his side.
"It is not that," she answered slowly. "That has made no difference in my love for him. It will make a difference in our happiness, I know; but what I fear is the change in Morgan. There is something that he is keeping from me. I have seen it every day that I was with him. Do you know what it is, Uncle Felix?"
The old gentleman looked away, avoiding her question.
"Sargent went to him yesterday evening, as soon as he had come. I left them together," he resumed after a short silence.
"Did you see him afterwards—when he had left Morgan?"
"No. I only saw him at breakfast this morning. But he could talk of nothing but the details of the trial." Judge Houston was still looking away from her. "Perhaps," he said with a start, "Sargent will do for Morgan what no one else could do."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that when Morgan hears the speech for his defence, couched in legal terms and showing in a convincing way that he is not guilty of—of murder, it will bring to him a realization of his innocence. Sargent's speech is going to be wonderful." The old man's eyes deepened with the certainty of that knowledge. "I saw that yesterday when he came back, worn out and exhausted from the long journey. Do you know, Natalia," he looked at her searchingly, "I believe it would help you, too. Will you go?"