"The Court stands adjourned until eleven in the morning," said the Governor. "Meantime, let the advocate for the defence see the accused and give her the benefit of his legal advice and assistance. Jailer, look to the Jury that they are properly lodged in the Castle, and see that they hold no communication with persons outside." IV The Judges, the advocates and the spectators were gone, and Gell was alone in the Court-house. He was like a drowning man in an empty sea, clinging to an upturned boat. Time after time he gathered up his papers and put them in his bag, then took them out again and spread them before him. At length, rising with a haggard face, he went downstairs with a heavy step. At the door to the private entrance he came upon Fenella, who was waiting for her father. Her eyes were red as if she had been weeping, but they were blazing with anger also. "Are you going down to her as the Governor suggested?" "I cannot! I dare not!" he replied. And then, as if struck by a sudden thought he said, "But won't you go?" "You wish me to speak to her instead of you?" "Won't you? If she has anything to say she'll say it more freely to a woman." Fenella looked at him for a moment. "Very well, I'll go if you are willing to take the consequences." "The consequences? To me? That's nothing--nothing whatever. Go to her, for God's sake. I'll wait here for you." In the Deemster's room the Governor was putting on his military overcoat. He was not too well satisfied with himself, and as the only means of self-justification he was nursing a dull anger against Stowell. "Well, we can only go on with it. There's nothing else to do now. Unfortunate--damnably unfortunate!" A few minutes later, Stowell, sitting at the table in wig and gown, heard the clash of steel outside (a company of the regiment quartered in the town were acting as a guard of honour) and saw through the window the Governor's big blue landau passing over the bridge that crossed the harbour. Gell would be with Bessie in her cell by this time. She was guilty. He must see that she was guilty. What a shock! What a disillusionment! All his high-built faith in the girl wrecked and broken! At last he unrobed and went down the empty staircase. On opening the door to the court-yard he was startled to see Gell pacing to and fro with downcast head among the remains of some tombs of old kings which lay about in the rank grass. "Ah, is it you?" said Gell, looking up at the sound of Stowell's footsteps. "You were good to her, old fellow. I can't help thanking you." Stowell mumbled some reply and then said he thought Gell would have been with Bessie. "I daren't go," said Gell. "But Fenella has gone instead of me." "Fenella?" Stowell felt as if something were creeping between his skin and his flesh. Fenella and Bessie--those two and the dread secret!