"Why did Sargent Everett not come to me instead of to Morgan? It was I who sent for him." The overpowering discovery had pressed out all other thoughts at that moment.
"Because Morgan needed him," came the answer, the old man's face averted. "You did not."
Natalia withdrew her hand, a little bewildered. Perhaps, after all, her inflamed imagination had carried her beyond the truth!
They entered the gloomy corridor together, and as the door to Morgan's cell was unlocked, Judge Houston stepped back to let Natalia enter alone. During her former visits she had found Joel always beside Morgan, cheering him and talking about the trial in a lively manner that was a feeble attempt to dispel the gloom which had settled over him. This time Morgan was alone, standing at the window looking out at the gorgeous sunset. When he turned at her entrance, she started back when she had seen the expression of his face. The change was remarkable; instead of the mute suffering which she had seen in his eyes during the last few days, was now a semblance of his old self, the same brilliant expression and colouring, only deepened and strengthened by experience. And in his eyes, as they rested on her, she saw again the love which had hitherto been veiled in the unwonted expression of his despair.
As he came toward her, a flood of doubts swept over her and she put out her hands as if to ward off a blow.
"Something has happened, Morgan," she cried. "What is it?"
He gathered her hands into his strong clasp and led her to a chair, looking down at her all the time, like one who had not seen her for a long time. When she had sunk into the chair, still staring at him anxiously, he pulled a stool up beside her, and took hold of her hands again.
"It is nearly over, Natalia," he said with a happy ring in his voice. "They tell me to-morrow will bring the end of the trial. Will you ever forgive me, dear?"
"Forgive you! What?" she answered, still reading his face for some explanation.
"For almost ruining your happiness and mine. I had felt all along that your love for me would die after I had killed Jervais; that even if it were in self-defence, you would not be able to forget the crime. But it isn't true—you do not feel that way, do you?"