Part 27 (1/2)

”G.o.d will not permit such a judicial crime as the murder of an innocent man to be committed,” she declared.

Mr. Calton, to whom she said this, shook his head doubtfully.

”G.o.d has permitted it to take place before,” he answered softly; ”and we can only judge the future by the past.”

At last, the day of the long-expected trial came, and as Calton sat in his office looking over his brief, a clerk entered and told him Mr.

Frettlby and his daughter wished to see him. When they came in, the barrister saw that the millionaire looked haggard and ill, and there was a worried expression on his face.

”There is my daughter, Calton,” he said, after hurried greetings had been exchanged. ”She wants to be present in Court during Fitzgerald's trial, and nothing I can say will dissuade her.”

Calton turned, and looked at the girl in some surprise.

”Yes,” she answered, meeting his look steadily, though her face was very pale; ”I must be there. I shall go mad with anxiety unless I know how the trial goes on.”

”But think of the disagreeable amount of attention you will attract,”

urged the lawyer.

”No one will recognise me,” she said calmly, ”I am very plainly dressed, and I will wear this veil;” and, drawing one from her pocket, she went to a small looking-gla.s.s which was hanging on the wall, and tied it over her face.

Calton looked in perplexity at Mr. Frettlby.

”I'm afraid you must consent,” he said.

”Very well,” replied the other, almost sternly, while a look of annoyance pa.s.sed over his face. ”I shall leave her in your charge.”

”And you?”

”I'm not coming,” answered Frettlby, quickly, putting on his hat. ”I don't care about seeing a man whom I have had at my dinner-table, in the prisoner's dock, much as I sympathise with him. Good-day;” and with a curt nod he took his leave. When the door closed on her father, Madge placed her hand on Calton's arm.

”Any hope?” she whispered, looking at him through the black veil.

”The merest chance,” answered Calton, putting his brief into his bag.

”We have done everything in our power to discover this girl, but without result. If she does not come at the eleventh hour I'm afraid Brian Fitzgerald is a doomed man.”

Madge fell on her knees, with a stifled cry.

”Oh, G.o.d of Mercy,” she cried, raising her hands as if in prayer, ”save him. Save my darling, and let him not die for the crime of another.

G.o.d--”

She dropped her face in her hands and wept convulsively, as the lawyer touched her lightly on the shoulder.

”Come!” he said kindly. ”Be the brave girl you were, and we may save him yet. The hour is darkest before the dawn, you know.”

Madge dried her tears, and followed the lawyer to the cab, which was waiting for them at the door. They drove quickly up to the Court, and Calton put her in a quiet place, where she could see the dock, and yet be un.o.bserved by the people in the body of the Court. Just as he was leaving her she touched his arm.

”Tell him,” she whispered, in a trembling voice, ”tell him I am here.”

Calton nodded, and hurried away to put on his wig and gown, while Madge looked hurriedly round the Court from her point of vantage.

It was crowded with fas.h.i.+onable Melbourne of both s.e.xes, and they were all talking together in subdued whispers. The popular character of the prisoner, his good looks, and engagement to Madge Frettlby, together with the extraordinary circ.u.mstances of the case, had raised public curiosity to the highest pitch, and, consequently, everybody who could possibly manage to gain admission was there.