"I will, I will!" he cried. "I have sinned, but God will never allow me to suffer this. He could not. One thing my confession to-day will do, too--it will give me time. There's sure to be some delay before another judge is appointed, and the whole case will have to be tried again. Meanwhile I must be up and doing." "Oh, if she were only conscious!" said Mary. "But the doctor says that perhaps she will be unconscious for weeks, and under no circumstances must she be questioned." "Did she speak of me?" asked the judge. "Only indirectly." "Did she seem to despise me--hate me?" The girl was silent, and the judge understood what her silence meant. "It's just," he said. "It's just. But I must save Paul!" A knock came to the door, and the woman whom Dr. White had obtained told them there was food in the dining-room. "Thank you," said the judge. "Yes, we must eat, Mary; it seems like waste of time, but we must. And after we have had some dinner I'll read through everything again. There must be a way out. Are you well enough to run upstairs, Mary, and ask how--how--she is?" There was a strange, yearning look in his eyes as he spoke. He might have been ashamed, too--there was indeed a change in Judge Bolitho. "She's no worse," said Mary, coming down a few minutes later. "The nurse says she is sleeping peacefully. The doctor will be here in a little while now. He seems a very hard-hearted man, but he admires Paul greatly, and he's very clever." During the meal both of them were silent. Each, of them had much food for thought, and there are times when words are vain. "To think," said the judge, when they had finished their dinner, "that I should be here in this way, in my son's house, and that his mother---- Mary, bring me those papers, will you?" A little later he was deeply immersed in the early history of the trial, noting each detail, fastening upon every weakness of the charge and the difficulties of defence. It seemed to him as though he were practising at the bar again, and he were preparing his case for the defence of the prisoner. But this time he had an interest never known to him before. It was for him to fight for the life of his own son. Presently he heard the doctor's step on the stairs. He had been in the sick-room, and when he had finished his visit, Mary had led him to the room where her father was. Dr. White looked at the judge curiously. At each house he had called that afternoon there was but one subject of discussion. No one knew that Judge Bolitho was in Brunford; had they done so, excitement would have exceeded all bounds; but as it was, the confession which he had made had set the whole town talking. "Will you tell me how my wife is?" asked the judge. "Your wife?" queried the doctor. "Yes, my wife. Will you tell me how she is?"