Again the Governor looked at Stowell's heated face and thought, "Yes, he'll ill, and doesn't see that I am fighting his own battle. "Do it, Sir," said Stowell. "Do it, for God's sake, before it is too late, and there is such an outcry throughout the kingdom as will shake the very foundations of justice in the island." The Governor was still smoking leisurely and keeping his eye on his flower-beds. "Gardener, don't you think that bed of geraniums...." he began, but Stowell could bear no more. "Good God, Sir, isn't this matter of sufficient importance to merit your attention?" The Governor turned sharply upon him, threw away his half-smoked cigar and said, "Come this way." Not another word was spoken until, returning to the house with a certain pomp of stride, with Stowell behind him, the Governor reached his room and closed the door behind him. Then, unlocking his desk, he took out a large envelope (the same that Fenella had seen at breakfast) and handed the contents of it to Stowell, saying, "Look at that." Stowell saw at a glance what it was and uttered a cry of astonishment. "Then it's done." "Yes, it's done. And now sit down and listen to me." But Stowell continued to stand with the paper crinkling in his trembling fingers. "You say Taubman told you I reported against the Jury's recommendation. Quite true! As President of the Court and head of the Manx judiciary, I told the Home Secretary I saw no justification for it--no justification whatever." Stowell was silent. "You say it is fifty years since such a crime has been punished by death. Perhaps it is, but the fact that the Statute remains is proof enough that the law contemplates cases in which it may properly be exercised. This in my view was such a case and I had every right to say so." Still Stowell remained silent. "You say the prisoner may have acted from a good motive. I see no good motive in a mother who takes the life of her child. You speak of her shame, but shame is no excuse for crime. Why shouldn't such women suffer shame? Shame is the just consequence of their evil conduct, and to try to escape from it by making away with their misbegotten children is crime." Stowell was trembling but still silent. "Pity for women of that sort is sentimental weakness. Worse, it is a danger to public safety. The sooner such people are put out of the world the better for the public good." There was a palpable silence on both sides for some moments. The Governor glanced at Stowell's twitching face and began to be sorry for him. "Good Lord!" he thought, "why can't the man see that it's best for himself that the girl should die? As long as she lives the wretched scandal may break out again and his own share in it may come to light. And then Fenella! How could I allow her to marry him with that danger hanging over his head?" Stowell's fingers were contracting over the paper that crinkled in his hand. At length he threw it on the desk and said,