“I haven’t spoken of it to Adam yet,” said Eve.  “He hasn’t asked about his coming, so I thought I’d leave the telling till another time.  His mind seems set on nothing but getting off, and by it setting Jerrem free.”

But Reuben made no rejoinder to the questioning tone of Eve’s words, and after a few minutes’ pause he waived the subject by reverting to the description which Eve had given of Joan, so that, in case he had to meet her alone, he might recognize her without difficulty.  Eve repeated the description, dwelling with loving preciseness on the various features and points by which Joan might be known; and then Reuben, having some work to do, got up to say good-bye.

“Good-bye,” said Eve, holding out her hand—­“good-bye.  Every time I say it now I seem to wonder if ’tis to be good-bye indeed.”

“Why, no:  in any way, you’d wait until the trial was over?”

“Yes, I forgot:  of course we should.”

“Well, then, do you think I’d let you go without a word?  Ah, Eve, no!  Whatever others are, nobody’s yet pushed you from your place, nor ever will so long as my life lasts.”

CHAPTER XXXVII

At length the dreaded day was over, the trial was at an end, and, in spite of every effort made, Jerrem condemned to die.  The hopes raised by the knowledge of Adam’s escape seemed crowned with success when, to the court’s dismay, it was announced that the prisoner’s accuser could not be produced:  he had mysteriously disappeared the evening before, and in spite of a most vigorous search was nowhere to be found.  But, with minds already resolved to make this hardened smuggler’s fate a warning and example to all such as should henceforth dare the law, one of the cutter’s crew, wrought upon by the fear lest Jerrem should escape and baffle the vengeance they had vowed to take, was got to swear that Jerrem was the man who fired the fatal shot; and though it was shown that the night was dark and recognition next to impossible, this evidence was held conclusive to prove the crime, and nothing now remained but to condemn the culprit.  The judge’s words came slowly forth, making the stoutest there shrink back and let that arrow from the bow of death glance by and set its mark on him upon whose face the crowd now turned to gaze.

“Can it be that he is stunned? or is he hardened?”

For Jerrem stands all unmoved and calm while, dulled by the sound of rushing waters, the words the judge has said come booming back and back again.  A sickly tremor creeps through every limb and makes it nerveless; a sense of growing weight presses the flesh down as a burden on the fainting spirit; one instant a thousand faces, crowding close, keep out the air; the next, they have all receded out of sight back into misty space, and he is left alone, with all around faded and grown confused and all beneath him slipping and giving way.  Suddenly a sound rouses him back to life:  a voice has smote his ear and cleaved his inmost soul; and lifting his head his eyes are met by sight of Joan, who with a piercing shriek has fallen back, deathlike and pale, in Reuben’s outstretched arms.