"Brute!" said the doctor, "it's some beast of an understrapper. He might have let them in, anyway. I'll see the head turnkey."
"Isn't it terribly sad?" replied Mrs. French.
The doctor rang the bell at the jail door, prepared for battle.
"I want to see Mr. Cowan."
The guard glanced past the doctor, saw the shrinking group behind him and gruffly announced, "This is not the hour for visitors."
"I want to see Mr. Cowan," repeated the doctor slowly, looking the guard steadily in the eye. "Is he in?"
"Come in," said the guard sullenly, allowing the doctor and his friend to enter, and shutting the door in the faces of the Galicians.
In a few moments Mr. Cowan appeared, a tall athletic man, kindly of face and of manner. He greeted Mrs. French and the doctor warmly.
"Come into the office," he said; "come in."
"Mr. Cowan," said Mrs. French, "there is a poor Galician woman and her children outside the door, the wife and children of the man who was condemned yesterday. The Judge told them they could see the prisoner to-day."