It is true that her counsel and her few devoted friends, flattered themselves and her with the promise of certain deliverance. But even her limited experience taught her that very little dependence could be placed upon the prejudgment of partisans, who always made it a point to sustain the hopes of the accused by positive promises of acquittal, which were not always confirmed by the verdict of the jury. The law was proverbially uncertain. It was very possible she might be convicted. And then— A vision of the convict cell, the transport ship, the penal colonies, swam darkly before her mind’s eyes, turning her soul sick with horror. It was but for a moment, and then, strange to say, she regarded this possible result as the condemned might regard the rack, the wheel, or the stake—a frightful torture certainly, but one happily soon ending in death. And merely saying— “I should soon sink under it, and that would be well,”—she dismissed the vision, and turned to look upon the other—scarcely the happier—contingency. She might be acquitted, as was confidently promised by her friends, upon the ground of the illegality of the childish marriage into which she had first been entrapped. Such were the uncertain prospects of the future. What now became her duty? For, with whomsoever the adjudication of her legal position rested, that of her moral one remained, under these as under other circumstances, with herself alone. What then was her duty? It might be indicated by circumstances. In the event of a conviction, her fate would be taken out of her own hands, leaving her nothing to do, but simply to submit and be patient until death should terminate her sufferings. But on the other hand, with the issue of acquittal would come a mighty moral problem, involving a terrible soul-struggle; for then Lord Montressor would immediately claim her as his wife; nay more, he would undoubtedly have his traveling carriage in waiting to convey her directly from the scene of her sufferings to his seat in Dorset, or to some other peaceful retreat he would provide, where the arms of affection should uphold and nurse her back to life, health, and serenity. The laws of the realm would sustain him in this course; the world, ever ready to bow to success, would be his partisan; and deeper and more potent than law, or world, the advocate in her own heart was retained in his service and would plead his cause. Should she admit his claim, yield herself up to his higher wisdom for direction, and with a child’s unquestioning trust repose in the blessed haven of his large love? For a moment, a vision of this sweet rest beamed in upon her dark and troubled soul like the holy light of heaven. Should she give herself up to the happiness prepared for her? There was a pause—a long pause, and silence in her soul. Her conscience gave no affirmative. She only saw herself at a fork in the road of life from which two paths diverged.