“I have not seen him since we met him in the drive.  I saw the solicitor who is working up the case for him yesterday.  He came over to see Mrs. Hurd and me.  I had not thought of asking him, but we agreed that, if he would undertake it, it would be the best chance.”

“It is probably the best chance,” said Aldous, thoughtfully.  “I believe Wharton has not done much at the Bar since he was called, but that, no doubt, is because he has had so much on his hands in the way of journalism and politics.  His ability is enough for anything, and he will throw himself into this.  I do not think Hurd could do better.”

She did not answer.  She felt that he was magnanimous, but felt it coldly, without emotion.

He came and stooped over her.

“Good-night—­good-night—­tired child—­dear heart!  When I saw you in that cottage this morning I thought of the words, ’Give, and it shall be given unto you.’  All that my life can do to pour good measure, pressed down, running over, into yours, I vowed you then!”

When the door closed upon him, Marcella, stretched in the darkness, shed the bitterest tears that had ever yet been hers—­tears which transformed her youth—­which baptised her, as it were, into the fulness of our tragic life.

She was still weeping when she heard the door softly opened.  She sprang up and dried her eyes, but the little figure that glided in was not one to shrink from.  Mary Harden came and sat down beside her.

“I knew you would be miserable.  Let me come and cry too.  I have been my round—­have seen them all—­and I came to bring you news.”

“How has she taken—­the verdict?” asked Marcella, struggling with her sobs, and succeeding at last in composing herself.

“She was prepared for it.  Charlie told her when he saw her after you left this afternoon that she must expect it.”

There was a pause.

“I shall soon hear, I suppose,” said Marcella, in a hardening voice, her hands round her knees, “what Mr. Wharton is doing for the defence.  He will appear before the magistrates, I suppose.”

“Yes; but Charlie thinks the defence will be mainly reserved.  Only a little more than a fortnight to the assizes!  The time is so short.  But now this man has turned informer, they say the case is quite straightforward.  With all the other evidence the police have there will be no difficulty in trying them all.  Marcella!”

“Yes.”

Had there been light enough to show it, Mary’s face would have revealed her timidity.

“Marcella, Charlie asked me to give you a message.  He begs you not to—­not to make Mrs. Hurd hope too much.  He himself believes there is no hope, and it is not kind.”

“Are you and he like all the rest,” cried Marcella, her passion breaking out again, “only eager to have blood for blood?”

Mary waited an instant.