"Well, the end of it is that you are to go up to see the Home Secretary after the House has risen at Easter." Stowell's heart was beating high, yet he hardly knew whether he was more proud than afraid. He mumbled something about the claims of his seniors at the bar. "Oh yes, I know! All the old stick-in-the-muds! But keep your end up in London and I'll keep mine up here." "You are very good, Sir. You have always been good to me." The Governor, who had been rattling on, in a rush of high spirits, suddenly became grave and spoke slowly. "Not at all," he said. "And I'm not thinking of you as .... what you are going to be. I'm thinking of you as your father's son, and expecting you to live up to your traditions. We want the spirit of the great Deemster in the island these days. Violence! Violence! Violence! I agree with the Lord Chief. It seems as if the world is getting out of hand. Justice is the only thing that can save it from anarchy--utter anarchy and ruin. Let's have no more recommendations to mercy! When people commit crime let them suffer. When they take life--no matter who or what they are--let them die for it." "And by the way" (Stowell was leaving the room), "your father's portrait is finished. We must unveil it before you go up to London." Trembling all over, Stowell went into the library to tell Fenella. "How splendid!" she said. She was glowing with excitement. "You've done magnificent work for women as an advocate, but only think what you will be able to do as a judge! There isn't a poor, wronged girl in the island who won't know that she has a friend on the Bench!" END OF SECOND BOOK _THIRD BOOK_ THE CONSEQUENCE CHAPTER NINETEEN THE EVE OF MARY Bessie Collister had passed through a very different winter. When she read in the insular newspaper the long report of the trial of the Peel fisherman she was terrified. Men did not forgive their wives, then, in such cases? On the contrary the more they loved them the less they forgave them. Gell came bounding into the sitting-room while she had the newspaper in her hand and before she had time to hide it away he saw what she had been reading. "Terrible, isn't it?" he said. "Poor devil, I was sorry for him. When a woman deceives a man like that the law ought to allow him to put her away. He did wrong, of course, but he had no legal remedy--not an atom. Old Vic made out a magnificent case for the woman, but she deserved all she got, I'm afraid." Bessie gave a frightened cry, and then Gell said, as if to conciliate her.