He would go across to the Court-house. Why not? He was an advocate—nobody dare refuse him admission to a Court of Law. And as soon as Stowell stepped on to the bench he would rise in his place and cry, "You scoundrel! Come down from the Judgment seat! Because you were rich you thought you could buy a man's soul and a woman's body. But take that, and that!" and then he would fling his father's money into Stowell's face.
At that moment, having parted from the Chief Constable, Stowell was driving down the street.
Gell dragged his black bag from the corner into which he had thrown it on returning from Castletown, and put on his gown without remembering that he was in his shirt-sleeves, and then his wig, without knowing that his hair was dishevelled.
He was staggering from weakness and the pictures on the walls were going round him with an increasing vertigo, but he was struggling to regain his strength.
He heard a step on the stair (a man's step this time) and then a firm knock at his door.
"Farrell!" he thought. The Chief Constable was coming to arrest him. But nobody should do that yet—not until he had come face to face with Stowell.
The knock was repeated.
"Go away!" he cried.
Then he pulled open the door, and found Stowell himself standing on the threshold. He fell back breathless. Stowell entered the room and closed the door behind him.
III