He had prevailed upon the old General to ride to Hilyard to try to obtain Adam's release, and after waiting impatiently for the result, heard by a messenger late that evening that Adam must abide his trial. Durgan was proportionately angry and distressed. In this mood Bertha found him the morning after the lawyer arrived. She was somewhat less troubled than on the last occasion, but showed confusion in explaining her errand. She said that Alden was coming at once to see Durgan. She added, "When I sent for him, and was so terribly frightened, I--I thought I could tell him all that I feared." "It matters less that you should tell him what you fear, but you must tell him all that you know." "Oh, Mr. Durgan, that is just what I cannot do--now that he is here." "You must. One innocent man, at least, is most falsely accused. Do you think poor Adam is not made of the same flesh as you are? Think of the agony of being accused of killing one whom you fondly loved, whom you were bound to protect. Even if he is not hanged, every hour that he lies in jail is unutterable misery to him." "Alas! who can know that better than I?" she asked. There was conviction in her tone. She raised her face to his; then suddenly flushed and covered it with her hands. "You don't know? We thought you must have guessed; but Mr. Alden will tell you. Oh, Mr. Durgan, try to think of us as we are, not as the world thinks, and--there! he is coming." They listened a moment to approaching footsteps. Bertha took hold of Durgan's sleeve in her intensity. "Don't tell him anything I have said," she whispered. "Child!" he said a little sharply, "I must." Her intensity grew. "For Hermie's sake, don't. I will do anything you tell me in defense of Adam. I will--yes, I promise--I will tell you all I know, all I fear, only promise me this." She was clinging to his arm in tears. He gave promise grudgingly. "Not before I see you again, then." "In spite of whatever he may tell you?" "I have promised," he said with displeasure. She had gone on, and the lawyer tripped jauntily down the path. He brought with him the suggestion of hope. He presented his card with an almost quaint formality. His manner was old-fashioned. He admired the superb view, paid a few compliments to old Georgian families and to the Durgans in particular, and apologized for his unceremonious intrusion the previous evening. He went on, in elegant and precise diction, to say that he understood from his clients at the summit house that Durgan could give him details concerning the recent deplorable death of a colored woman who had been in their employment. Durgan conducted him to the place where Eve was found, and to Adam's now empty cabin. They discussed the facts that no knife had been found, that the fern had taken no print of feet. Then Durgan described his first sight of 'Dolphus and the interview. He was growing very tired of a statement that he had already been obliged to make more than once.