“Wants to see the Chief Warder,” explained the attendant to the constable at the door.

“He’s been here all the week,” mused the constable aloud.  “I wonder who he is?”

“Name of Steel,” whispered the other, consulting the card, as the gentleman advanced up the steps toward them, the gaslight gleaming in his silver hair, and throwing his firm features into strong relief.

“And not a bad name for him,” said the constable at the door.

CHAPTER IV

THE MAN IN THE TRAIN

Rachel fought her weakness with closed eyes, and was complete mistress of herself when those about her thought that consciousness alone was returning.  She recognized the chamber at a glance; it was the one in which generations of metropolitan malefactors, and a few innocent persons like herself, had waited for the verdict of life or death.  For her it was life, life, life!  And she wondered whether any other of the few had ever come back to life with so little joy.

The female warders were supporting her in a chair; the prison doctor stood over her with a medicine glass.

“Drink this,” said he, kindly.

“But I have been conscious all the time.”

“Never mind.  You need it.”

And Rachel took the restorative without more words.

It did its work.  The color came back to her face.  The blood ran hot in her veins.  In a minute she was standing up without assistance.

“And now,” said Rachel, “I shall not trespass further on your kindness, and I am sure that you will not wish to detain me.”

“We cannot,” said the doctor, with a broad smile and a bow; “you are as free as air, and will perhaps allow me to be the first to congratulate you.  At the same time, my dear madam, and quite apart from your condition—­which is wonderful to me after what you’ve been through—­at the same time, and even with your fortitude, I think it would be advisable to—­to wait a little while.”

The doctor raised his eyes, and all at once Rachel heard.  Overheard—­outside—­in the world—­there was the brutal hooting of a thoughtless mob.

“So that is for me!”

Rachel set her teeth.

“On the contrary,” said the kindly doctor, “it may be for the witnesses; but crowds are fickle things; and I should strongly urge you not to court a demonstration of one sort or the other.  You are best where you are for the time being, or at all events somewhere within the precincts.  And meanwhile your solicitor is waiting to add his congratulations to mine.”

“Is he, indeed!” cried Rachel, in a voice as hard as her eye.

“Why, to be sure,” rejoined the other, taken somewhat aback.  “There must be many matters for discussion between you, and he at least seems very anxious to discuss them.  In fact, I may say that he is only awaiting my permission for an immediate interview.”