The book was handed to the bench. Philip signed it, handed it back to the Clerk, and said with his face to the jailor—
“But keep her until somebody comes to fetch her.”
There had been a cold silence during these proceedings. When they were over, the ladies breathed freely. “You remember the case—left her husband and little child—divorced since, I'm told—a worthless person.”—“Ah! yes, wasn't she first tried the day the Deemster fell ill in court?”—“Men are too tender with such creatures.”
Philip had risen again. “Your Excellency, I have done the last of my duties as Deemster.” His voice had hoarsened. He was a worn and stricken figure.
The ex Governor's warmth had been somewhat cooled by the unexpected interruption. Nevertheless, the pock-marks smoothed out of his forehead, and he rose with a smile. At the same moment the Clerk of the Rolls stepped up and laid two books on the desk before him—a New Testament in a tattered leather binding, and the Liber Juramentorum, the Book of Oaths.
“The regret I feel,” said the ex-Governor, “and feel increasingly, day by day, at the severance of the ties which have bound me to this beautiful island is tempered by the satisfaction I experience that the choice of my successor has fallen upon one whom I know to be a gentleman of powerful intellect and stainless honour. He will preserve that autonomous independence which has come down to you from a remote antiquity, at the same time that he will uphold the fidelity of a people who have always been loyal to the Crown. I pray that the blessing of Almighty God may attend his administration, and that, if the time ever comes when he too shall stand in the position I occupy to-day, he may have recollections as lively of the support and kindness he has met with, and regrets as deep at his separation from the little Manx nation which he leaves behind.”
Then the Governor took the staff of office, and gave the signal for rising. Everybody rose. “And now, sir,” he said, turning to Philip with a smile, “to do everything, as you say, according to rule, let us first take Her Majesty's commission of your appointment.”
There was a moment's pause, and then Philip said in a cold clear voice—
“Your Excellency, I have no commission. The commission which I received I have returned. I have, therefore, no right to be installed as Governor. Also, I have resigned my office as Deemster, and, though my resignation has not yet been accepted, I am, in reality, no longer in the service of the State.”
The people looked at the speaker with eyes that were full of the stupefaction of surprise. Somebody bad risen at the back of the bench. It was the Clerk of the Rolls. He stretched out his hand as if to touch Philip on the shoulder. Then he hesitated and sat down again.