"I had hoped to get some sort of hint from the secretary, at the very least, but there's only silence. He didn't return my phone call."

"You look more worried than I've seen you, Leslie," Stone said.

"I confess, I am worded. I really expected some sort of word by now.

We have only until sundown."

"What time is sundown?"

"Seven fifty-nine; I checked. And they always do these things on the minute." "I've never been through anything like this," Stone said.

"Neither has Allison," Hewitt replied. They went into the jail and found Hilary Kramer and Jim

Forrester waiting at the desk, both looking tense. "Have you heard anything from the prime minister?" Hilary asked Hewitt. "Not yet," he replied. "But I expect to soon." "Are you going to see Allison now?"

"Yes," Stone replied. "Will you come out and let us know how she's doing? And ask her if she'll see me." "Maybe a bit later. You, too, Jim?" Forrester shook his head. "No, I don't want to see her." He turned to Kramer. "I guess I'm not much of a reporter." Stone and Hewitt were searched, then were walked down the corridor of cells.

Stone looked at the stout door at the end, with the small window a good fifteen feet above it. At least the sounds from the inner courtyard had stopped; thank God for that. Allison was sitting on her bunk, her hair pinhed up, wearing a denim prison shift that exposed her neck.

Stone kissed her on the cheek. "How are you?" "They took away my things," she said. "Even my underwear." She seemed very calm.

"You'll get them back later," Hewitt said. "Don't worry." "Haven't you heard anything from the prime minister?" she asked. He shook his head. "Sometimes it's like this," he said, glancing guiltily at Stone.

"We might not hear anything until the last minute." They all sat down--Hewitt in the single chair and Stone and Allison on the. bunk.

She held up a copy of David Copperfield. "The most exciting thing they had to offer," she said. "It's good, though. I haven't read it since the eighth grade; I'd forgotten how good it is." "I've had many calls from the press," Stone said. "The prime minister's office is under a lot of pressure." Allison nodded, but said nothing. Nobody said anything. They sat quietly, each with his own thoughts, for more than an hour. A jailer appeared at the cell door. "Can I get anything for.

anybody he asked. "I'd like some water," Allison said. "I'm sorry; You won't be able to eat or drink from now on. I thought you might like some magazines." "No, thank you," Allison said, and the man left.

"Why won't they let me eat or drink?" she asked. "I don't know Hewitt said, before Stone could speak. "They have their silly rules, I suppose." Another long period of silence ensued, until Stone began to attempt small talk. "What are you going to do when you get home?" he asked Allison. "Get the estate wound up, I suppose. I don't really have any plans beyond that. I find it difficult to think about the future right now." ' "The fast motor yacht came back and is waiting for you at the marina." "Good. I certainly don't want to waste any time here when this is over."

He fell silent again, and so did she. Suddenly there was the scrape of a key in the cell door's lock. They had not heard anyone approach down the corridor. A tall black man in a gray suit and a priest's collar stood in the open door.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Manning," he said gravely. "I am the Reverend John Wills; I thought you might like to speak with me. Are you a Christian?"

"I'm an Episcopalian," she replied. "Yes, do come in."

"Gentlemen," the priest said, "will you excuse us for a while?"

"Of course, Reverend," Hewitt said, then. left the cell, motioning for Stone to follow him.

The two men went outside and sat on a bench against the stone wall. I thought she should be alone with him," Hewitt said.

"Yes," said Stone. He could not think of anything else to say. The sun was lower in the sky now. Stone looked at his watch. "Leslie, it's nearly seven o'clock; could you call the prime minister's residence again?"

"Of course," Hewitt said. He got up and went back inside the jail. As he entered, Hilary Kramer and Jim Forrester came out.

"Stone," she said, "have you still heard nothing?"

"Nothing," Stone replied. "Leslie has gone to phone the prime minister."

They joined Stone on the bench. "This is driving me crazy," Forrester said.

"It's seven o'clock," Kramer said, looking at her watch. "What time is sundown?"

"Seven fifty-nine," Stone replied. "I'm told they do these things on time."

"They're not really going to hang her, Stone, surely," Forrester said, sounding distressed. "This is just sort of torture." "I don't know what's going to happen," Stone said. "I'm afraid to hope." Hewitt came back outside. "What?" Stone said. "It's very odd," Hewitt replied. "No one is answering the phone." "Not even an answering machine?" "Nothing; it just rang and rang. I must have let it ring twenty-five times, then I called again and got the same result."

"Maybe they, re on the way over here,"" Forrester said hopefully.

Nobody cared t? address that possibility. "Did they make you two leave Allison alone?" Kramer asked. "A priest is with her," Stone replied. "We thought it best to leave them." As if on cue, the priest came out the door. "Mr. Barrington?" Stone looked up. "Mrs. Manning would like to see you and Sir Leslie now." "How did you leave her, Reverend?" Hewitt asked the- man. "I think her mind is relieved," he replidd. "We had quite a good talk, although I don't think she had met with a clergyman for quite some time. She seems resigned now."

Resigned, Stone thought. He wasn't resigned. Why the hell didn't the prime minister's office call and at least put them out of their misery?

The priest spoke again. "Are you Miss Kramer and

Mr.

Forrester?" he asked the two reporters.

"Yes," Kramer replied.

"She'd like to see you both for a moment; I spoke to the jailer, and he will allow it."

They all got to their feet and went inside, the priest bringing up the rear. The jailer searched Kramer and Forrester, then conducted the group down the corridor.

Forrester stopped. "I can't do this," he said. "I just can't."

"Wait for us outside," Stone said, and Forrester went back down the corridor.

Allison was, sitting on the bunk, reading a Bible that the priest must have given her. She looked up, saw Kramer, and smiled.

"Thank you for coming," she said to her, shaking her hand. "I wanted to tell you how grateful I am to you, Hilary, for the reporting you did in the Times. It meant a great deal to me." She looked toward the door. "Where's Jim?"

Stone spoke up. "He wasn't feeling well; he asked that you excuse him."

Allison nodded.

"You will have to go now," the jailer said to Kramer.

The reporter left, leaving Stone, Hewitt, and the priest with Allison.

Stone looked at his watch: seven thirty-five.

Finally, Hewitt spoke. "A phone line at the main desk will be kept free," he said, then he was quiet again.

"Stone," Allison said, "they asked me to fill out a giving next of kin and so forth. I gave them your name to handle any formalities."

"Of course," Stone said, "but that's not going to be necessary."

She smiled slightly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." She smoothed her skirt. "I've also left some instructions with Leslie,"

she said. "To be opened..."

let the trail off.

She sentence

"Everything will be done, Allison," Leslie said. "I feel that I have let you down, you know."