Felix then gave a concise narrative of his motives and conduct on the day of the riot, and explained that in throwing the constable down he had not foreseen the possibility of death ensuing.  It was a good, straightforward speech, not without a touch of defiant independence, which did the prisoner little good with judge or jury.

Mr. Lyon and Harold Transome both gave evidence in favour of Felix, stating that the prisoner had often expressed his hatred of rioting, and had protested with indignation against the treating that went on during the election by some of the Radical agents.

One or two witnesses were called who swore that Felix had tried to lead the mob in the opposite direction to Treby Manor, and it was understood that the case for the defence was closed.

Then it came to Esther that she must speak if Felix was to be saved.  There had been no witness to tell what had been his behaviour just before the riot.  There was time, but not too much time.

Before Harold Transome was aware of Esther’s intention she was on her way to the witness-box.

A sort of gleam shot across the face of Felix Holt, and anyone close to the prisoner would have seen that his hand trembled, for the first time, at Esther’s beautiful aspect.  There was no blush on her face:  she stood, divested of all personal consideration whether of vanity or shyness, and gave her story as if she had been making a confession of faith.

She knew Felix Holt well, she said.  He came to see her on the day of the election, and told her he feared the men might collect again after drinking.  “It was the last thing he would have done to join in riot or to hurt any man, if he could have helped it.  He could never have had any intention that was not brave and good.”

When she was back in her place Felix could not help looking towards her, and their eyes met in one solemn glance.

Esther stayed in court till the end.  She heard the verdict, “Guilty of Manslaughter,” followed by the judge’s sentence, “Imprisonment for four years.”  But so great was the impression made by Esther’s speech that a petition to the Home Secretary was at once set on foot by the leading men of the county.

IV.—­Felix and Esther

One April day, when the sun shone on the lingering raindrops, Lyddy was gone out, and Esther chose to sit in the kitchen.  She was not reading, but stitching, and as her fingers moved nimbly, something played about her lips like a ray.

A loud rap came at the door.

“Mr. Lyon at home?” said Felix in his firm tones.  “No, sir,” said Esther:  “but Miss Lyon is, if you’ll please to walk in.”

“Esther!” exclaimed Felix, amazed.

They held each other by both hands, and looked into each other’s faces with delight.

“You are out of prison?”

“Yes, till I do something bad again.  But you—­how is it all?  Are you come back to live here then?”