"For Heaven's sake, compose yourself now! You will need all your self-possession, for her sake, as well as for your own. Come into the warden's office with me. He also must go with us to her cell."

In great distress of mind, Mr. Berners followed the sheriff into the warden's office.

Old Mr. Martin, who was at his desk, came to meet the visitors.

"One moment, Martin. I will see you in one moment. Just now, I wish to speak to Mr. Berners," said the sheriff, as he drew Lyon Berners aside.

"What is it now?" inquired Sybil's husband, in an agony of alarm for her sake.

"Can you not surmise?" compa.s.sionately suggested the sheriff.

"I--Oh, great Heaven!--I dare not!" he exclaimed, throwing up his hands and clasping his head.

"You must know that the pet.i.tion sent up to the Governor for her pardon has been returned with an adverse decision."

"I feared it! Oh, heaven!"

"Oh, try to be firm! I must now tell you the worst. The pet.i.tion did not come down alone--" The speaker paused an instant, and then added gravely and compa.s.sionately:

"There was another doc.u.ment came down with it--a doc.u.ment that I must read to her."

"THE DEATH WARRANT!"

Lyon Berners uttered these words with such a groan of anguish and despair as seemed to have rent his soul and body asunder as he reeled and caught at the window frame for support, and then dropped into a chair by its side.

"Mr. Berners, for her sake! for heaven's sake! bear up now! Martin, a gla.s.s of brandy here! quick!"

The warden who always kept a bottle on his desk, hurriedly filled a tumbler half full of brandy, and hastened up with it.

"Drink it! drink it all!" said the sheriff, putting the gla.s.s into Mr.

Berners' hand.

Lyon Berners drank the strong and fiery spirit, feeling it no more than if it had been water.

A few moments pa.s.sed, during which Mr. Berners struggled hard for self-control, while the warden in a low voice inquired:

"What is it?"

"_The death warrant!_"

As the sheriff whispered these awful words, the warden clasped his hands, saying fervently:

"_Now may the Lord help them both!_"

Then the sheriff turned to Mr. Berners, who had again sank upon a chair, and was still striving to recover himself, and he kindly inquired:

"Are you ready now to go with us to her cell? She will need your support in this trying hour."

"Heaven give me strength! Yes, I am ready!" said Mr. Berners.

And the ministers of fate went to take the death warrant to the cell of Sybil Berners.

CHAPTER XVIII.

HOW SYBIL RECEIVED HER DEATH WARRANT.

She looked on many a face with vacant eye, On many a token without knowing what; She saw them watch her without asking why, And recked not who around her pillow sat.--BYRON.

The warden unlocked the door and entered the cell, followed by the sheriff and Mr. Berners.

Sybil was dressed, but lying on the outside of her bed.

Beatrix was sitting beside her, engaged in some light needle-work.

"She is very feeble both in mind and body to-day," said Beatrix, in answer to an inquiring look of Mr. Berners, as she arose to give him her seat by the bedside.

"How are you this morning, love?" inquired Mr. Berners, tenderly taking her hand.

"Oh! I am better! Shall we go home to-morrow, Lyon?"

"If it please Providence, dear," answered her husband, putting a strong constraint upon himself. But he saw that though she had asked the question, she scarcely heard his answer; her attention had wandered from the point, and she was idly pulling the curly-haired ears of her little dog, who lay coiled up beside her.

Meanwhile Mr. Fortescue had shaken hands with Miss Pendleton, and was now saying:

"Beatrix, my child, you had better retire from this scene for a few moments."

"Why?" inquired Beatrix, looking her old neighbor firmly in the face.

"Because I have a very painful duty to perform, which will be very distressing to you to witness."

"What is it?" inquired Miss Pendleton, without removing her eyes from his face.

The sheriff stooped and told her in a whisper.

She turned pale as death, caught her breath, and leaned for an instant on the table near her. Then, with a supreme effort, she stood up and said:

"You have known me from my childhood. Do you think me such a dastard as to desert my friend in the hour of her utmost need? No, Mr. Fortescue; I will stand by Sybil to the last. So do your duty! Thank Heaven, you cannot hurt her much!"

"Thank Heaven indeed, if that is so, Beatrix," answered the sheriff, as he made a sign to Mr. Berners, and approached the bed with the death warrant in his hand.

"Sybil, darling," whispered her agonized husband, "here is Mr. Fortescue come to see you."

"Has he? that is kind," she answered, looking curiously at her own fingers, and then forgetting the presence of her visitors.

"How are you, Mrs. Berners?" inquired the sheriff.