"_God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform._"
Fenella, who had begun to tremble, turned back to the hotel. The
market-place was full of people, who were pouring into it from every
thoroughfare. On reaching her room she locked the door, pulled down
the window-blind, sat on the bed, covered her eyes, and tried to
think out what had happened.
The noise outside was like the surge of the sea, and like the surge
of the sea was the tumult in her heart and brain.
Could it be possible that Victor Stowell had helped Bessie Collister
to escape? She remembered what he had said to her father--that if
any attempt were made to carry out the sentence he would prevent it.
She remembered what she had said to him--that never could there be
anything between them while that girl lay in prison. He had been in
Castletown the night before, and he was the only man in the island
who could have access to the Castle without an order from the
Governor or the Chief Constable.
But a Judge to break prison! What would be the end of it? Why had
he done this incredible thing, risking everything? Was it solely
because he could not allow that unhappy girl, who had suffered so
much for him already, to go to the gallows? Or was it, perhaps,
because she herself had said....
Suddenly a great quickening of her love for Stowell came over her.
If she had stumbled upon his secret she would protect it.
"But what can I do?" she asked herself.
At one moment it occurred to her to run back to Quay Lane and warn
the good people there to say nothing more about the Deemster. But
no, that might awaken suspicion. They thought Bessie's escape was
due to supernatural agencies, that it had come as an answer to their
prayers--let them continue to think so.
At seven o'clock she was in the train for Douglas and the telegraph
poles were flying by. She must know what the Governor was doing.
But whatever her father might do her own course was clear.
She must stand by Victor now, whatever happened.