"But what can I do?" she asked herself.
At one moment it occurred to her to run back to Quay Lane and warn the good people there to say nothing more about the Deemster. But no, that might awaken suspicion. They thought Bessie's escape was due to supernatural agencies, that it had come as an answer to their prayers—let them continue to think so.
At seven o'clock she was in the train for Douglas and the telegraph poles were flying by. She must know what the Governor was doing. But whatever her father might do her own course was clear.
She must stand by Victor now, whatever happened.
II
In the cool sunshine of the early May morning Government House lay asleep. The gardener was mowing a distant part of the lawn when he saw a carriage drive rapidly up to the porch. Two gentlemen got out of it, and in less time than it took him to empty his grass-pan into his wheelbarrow they rang three times at the door.
Inside the house nobody was yet stirring except old John, the watchman, who was drawing the curtains and opening the windows. He heard the bell and thought the postman had brought a registered letter. In his cloth shoes he was shuffling to the vestibule when the bell rang again and yet again.
"Traa de looiar" ("Time enough"), he growled, but his voice fell to a more deferential tone when he opened the door, and saw who was there.
"Our apologies to His Excellency, and say the Attorney-General and the Chief Constable wish to see him immediately on urgent business."
The two men stepped into the smoking-room, which was still dark with the blinds down and rank with last night's tobacco smoke.