The Judges, the advocates and the spectators were gone, and Gell was alone in the Court-house. He was like a drowning man in an empty sea, clinging to an upturned boat.
Time after time he gathered up his papers and put them in his bag, then took them out again and spread them before him. At length, rising with a haggard face, he went downstairs with a heavy step.
At the door to the private entrance he came upon Fenella, who was waiting for her father. Her eyes were red as if she had been weeping, but they were blazing with anger also.
"Are you going down to her as the Governor suggested?"
"I cannot! I dare not!" he replied. And then, as if struck by a sudden thought he said, "But won't you go?"
"You wish me to speak to her instead of you?"
"Won't you? If she has anything to say she'll say it more freely to a woman."
Fenella looked at him for a moment.
"Very well, I'll go if you are willing to take the consequences."
"The consequences? To me? That's nothing—nothing whatever. Go to her, for God's sake. I'll wait here for you."