From the hour that Frisbie had been brought to trial the viscount had experienced the most vehement accession of anxiety. He refused all food during the day, and he paced the floor of his cell all night. And well he might; for he knew that on that trial revelations would be made under oath that would not tend to whiten Lord Vincent's character. On Thursday noon Mr. Bruce entered his cell. "Is the trial--" began the viscount; but he could not get on; his intense emotion choked him. "The trial is over; the jury brought in their verdict half an hour ago," replied the counsel gravely. "And Frisbie is--For Heaven's sake speak!" gasped the viscount. "Frisbie is convicted!" said the lawyer. Lord Vincent, pale before, turned paler still as he sank into the chair and gazed upon the lawyer, who was greatly wondering at the excessive emotion of his client. "When is the execution fixed to take place?" "On Monday, of course." "Is there--can there be any hope of a pardon for him?" "Not the shadow of a hope." "Or--of a commutation of his sentence?" "It is madness to think of it." "Is there no chance of a respite?" "I tell you it is madness, and worse than madness, to imagine such a thing as a pardon, a commutation, or even a respite for that wretch. The crime brought home to him was one of the darkest dye--the base assassination of the girl that loved and trusted and was true to him. To fancy any mercy possible for that miscreant, except it be the infinite, all-embracing, all-pardoning mercy of God, is simply frenzy." "And the execution is to take place on Monday. The time is very short," said the viscount, falling into a reverie. The lawyer began to speak of the viscount's own affairs; he mentioned several circumstances connected with the viscount's case that had become known to himself only through the testimony of certain witnesses on Frisbie's trial, and he wished to consult the viscount upon them. But Lord Vincent seemed to act very strangely; he was absent-minded, stupid, distracted--in fact altogether unfit for consultation with his counsel. And so, after a few unsuccessful attempts to rouse him, gain his attention, and fix it upon the subject at issue, the lawyer arose, said that he would call again the next morning, and bowed and left the cell. The shame the viscount suffered was in the knowledge of the dishonorable facts relating to himself that had been brought to light on Frisbie's trial; the great dread he felt was that Frisbie, at the near approach of death, would open his heart and make a full confession; and his horrible certainty was that such a confession was all that was wanted to ensure his own conviction.