"It is a painful office, I know, Judge Ruthven," said Sybil, her eyes filling and her lip quivering, "a painful office, to consign your old friend's child to a prison, and a more trying duty may follow; but there is no help for it, you know."

"My poor child! my poor child!".

These words almost unconsciously escaped the lips of the judge, as he laid his hand upon her head.

"You are sorry for me," said Sybil.

"From the bottom of my heart."

"And you believe me guiltless? Oh, if you can say that, you will give me so much strength and comfort," she pleaded.

How could he answer her? What could he say to her? He would have given much to be able to reply that he fully believed her to be guiltless.

But, though he had known her intimately, from her infancy up, and saw her standing there looking him frankly and honestly in the face and declaring her innocence, and challenging a trial, and pleading for his trust in her, he could not tell whether she were guilty or innocent.

He could not forget the fierce pa.s.sions and fearful deeds of her race; nor hide from his judgment the probability that this girl, inheriting the fiery temper of her fathers, and driven to desperation by jealousy, might, in a moment of frenzy, have slain her rival. Thus poor Sybil was an instance of that natural law by which children suffer for the sins of their fathers.

While the Judge dropped his venerable head upon his chest in sorrowful thought, Sybil waited for his answer; and the longer it was withheld, the more impatient she became to have it.

"You surely do not believe me guilty, then?" she pleaded, clasping her hands and trying to catch and meet his eyes as he raised his head.

"My child, whatever I may or may not believe, I must express no opinion here, or to you," he answered, evasively.

"Oh! I suppose not; for you are to be my judge and preside at my trial, and so it would never do for you to give an opinion," said Sybil with a sad smile, as, woman-like, she jumped to this conclusion.

The judge committed himself by no direct reply to her words, but said:

"I trust in Heaven, my child, that all will be well!"

"But, Judge Ruthven, although you may not be able to express an opinion as to my innocence or guilt, yet I earnestly wish that you may hold one--that you may believe me innocent; and so--please look into my eyes!"

The old man, who had been rather shunning her glance, now raised his head and met the honest gaze that was seeking his.

"Judge Ruthven," she re-commenced, "although the men and women of my line have been cursed with fierce and cruel tempers, and have some of them done ruthless and fearful deeds, yet not one of them was ever debased with a false and lying tongue, not one of them ever stooped to deny his or her deed to avert the worst consequences that might befall.

And, Judge Ruthven, if in my rage I had slain my rival, if I had been bad enough to do that deed, I should have been brave enough to avow it!

I have never stained my hands with blood, and never sullied my lips with falsehood, and so, when I tell you that I am guiltless of the death of Rosa Blondelle, Judge Ruthven, I call upon you to believe me!"

Her eyes were fixed on his, and through them poured her spirit's strength and purity and truth, inspiring his soul with full faith in her.

He arose from his seat, his fine old face tremulous, yet beaming with emotion.

"Give me your hands, my child! I _do_ believe you--I believe you!" he fervently exclaimed, taking and pressing her hands.

"Thank Heaven! Now I can bear the rest!" earnestly answered Sybil, bending her head. "And now, Judge Ruthven! do your duty! The quicker it is done and over, the better for us both!"

"Patience, patience, my child! I have now to return at once into the court to preside at a trial now in progress. In the mean while do you remain here. The necessary forms shall be gone through. I will send you counsel. You must be committed for trial; but you will immediately apply through your counsel to be admitted to bail. Remain here until you hear from me. All will be right for the present, and Heaven grant that all may be well in the end!"

"Admitted to bail! Not have to go to prison! Oh, thank you! thank you!

But I thought cases like mine were not bailable."

"That is somewhat at the discretion of the court. The fact that you have voluntarily come forward to give yourself up to trial, pleads loudly in your favor."

"And I may go home! Go home perhaps even to-night! Oh! home! home! home!

Oh! how blessed to be able to go home! Oh, thank you! thank you! thank you!" cried Sybil, bursting into tears of joy.

"Compose yourself, my child. It is very possible that you may sleep at home to-night, and many nights. But there are certain legal forms that must be observed. I will see that they are properly attended to, and with as little distress to you as may be consistent with their due observance. The case that is now going on will close this afternoon, I think. But I will still keep the court open to as late an hour as possible, to wait for the application of your counsel for bail. Remain here in peace until I send for you," said the judge kindly, pressing the hand of Sybil as he withdrew.

As soon as Judge Ruthven had left the room, Sybil turned triumphantly towards her young escort, who, since his entrance, had remained modestly standing near the door, and she said:

"Dear Raphael! did you hear that? I am to go home and rest in peace until my trial comes on! Oh, Raphael, what joy! And, dear boy, take notice! I did well to come here and give myself up! and this blessed prospect of going home is the fruits of that well-doing! Mind, Raphael, always be sure to _do_ well, and you will also be sure to _fare_ well!"

she concluded, mindful to give her young companion a lesson in morality.

"Oh, madam! I am so glad of this, for your sake!" said the boy, earnestly.

"Thank you, Raphael! And I do not forget that I owe very much of this satisfaction to you. But for your help, I could not have escaped from the band, or found my way through the mountain pa.s.ses to this place. But now, my boy, you have been long away from your companions. Your absence may be noticed, and may bring you into trouble. So with my best thanks, dear boy, I will bid you good-bye, and send you home," said Sybil, holding out her hand.

But the lad did not take it.

"'Home?'" he echoed sadly, "'home?' Ah, lady, what is my home? A robber's den! No, madam, I will never go back to the band! Here in the village I may get work as an errand boy, or on some farmer's field as a laborer; but even if I do not, though I should perish, I will never go back to the band!"

"Say you so, my boy? Then you shall even go home with me, and be my little brother; and my husband--Ah! my dear Lyon, how do you fare now?--my husband shall be your guardian, and send you to some good school of art where your fine talent may be cultivated," said Sybil, earnestly, again offering her hand.

He took it and raised it to his brow, and said:

"You should be a queen, lady!--a queen, to do your royal will towards all whom you wish to elevate. How can I thank you?"

"By accepting, in simplicity of heart, all that I and all that my n.o.ble husband will do for you. For Mr. Berners will also be very quick to recognize and prompt to reward your services to me."

Poor Sybil! in the generous exultation of her soul, she almost lost sight of the sorrows and dangers that still encompa.s.sed and threatened her.

She, in her young matronly pride and dignity, feeling ever so much older and wiser than her juvenile worshipper, took upon herself to give him much good counsel as to his conduct through life, and was still engaged in this way when two gentlemen opened the door and entered the room.

They were both old acquaintances of Mrs. Berners. The first was a Mr.

Fortescue, an elderly man, and a wealthy planter of the neighborhood, now holding the office of high sheriff of the county. The other was a Mr. Sheridan, a brilliant young barrister, often a.s.sociated with Mr.

Berners in the same lawsuit. Both these gentlemen had been frequent guests at Black Hall, both in the time of her father and of her husband.

Mr. Fortescue took off his cap, and bowed to his sometime hostess, as he said:

"Mrs. Berners, if I have come in person to serve this warrant, you will, I am sure, understand that I have a.s.sumed an unpleasant duty purely for your sake, to save you unnecessary pain."

"I comprehend and thank you, sir," answered Sybil.

"And you will at once accompany me to the magistrate's office."

"Yes, I am ready; let us go," said Sybil, rising.

"And here is Mr. Sheridan, offering himself as your counsel until you can procure better," said the high sheriff, presenting the young lawyer.

"I shall not be likely to find better, I am sure. I shall be very glad to retain Mr. Sheridan," said Sybil, frankly offering her hand to the young man.