Another moment passed, and then in a husky voice he said,
"Fenella, what did you pray for for me?"
"That you might have strength to do what was right, whatever it might
cost you."
He reached forward and grasped her hands.
"Did you know what that meant, Fenella--whatever it might cost me?"
"Yes," she said, raising her eyes, "and at length an answer came to
me."
"What answer?"
"That if you did, and made atonement, however low you might fall in
the eyes of men you would look upon the face of God."
Stowell gasped, dropped her hands and for a while was speechless.
Then he said,
"And do you think I will?"
"I am sure you will, Victor. I had a sign from God."
"Do you, after all, believe in God, Fenella?"
"Indeed yes. And you--don't you??"
"My father did. He used to kneel by his bed like a little child
every night and every morning."
She saw that he did not speak for himself, and a great wave of love
and compassion for the sin-laden man stormed her heart.
"Victor," she said, tears springing to her eyes, "you must try to
forgive me. I've not been what I ought to have been to you--I see
that now. Whatever you have done I should have clung to you, not
driven you away from me, and let you go on from sin to sin, doubting
God's mercy and forgiveness. Let me do so now. We belong to each
other, Victor. There can never be anybody else for either of us as
long as we live. Let us go together."
She had seized his hands. The hands of both were trembling.
"Would to God you could, Fenella. But it is too late for that now.
I have gone too far for you to follow me. Where I go now I must go
alone."
"Don't say that."
"Wait until I have seen your father."
At that moment the maid came into the room to tell the Deemster that
the Governor, having heard that he was in the house, wished to see
him immediately.
Stowell was turning to go, when Fenella put a trembling hand on his
shoulder and said in a whisper,
"Victor, whatever happens with my father, promise me that you will
never do that."
"But if the Governor...."
"Never mind about the Governor now, promise me."
There was a moment of silence and then he said, "I promise," and with
head down passed out of the room.
Being alone, Fenella tried in vain to compose herself. The fear that
Stowell might kill himself (as a result of the public exposure and
humiliation which the Governor would impose upon him) threw her into
violent agitation.
Unable to support the strain of her anxiety she could not resist the
temptation to listen at the door of her father's room. She heard the
two voices within--Stowell's in tones of pitiful supplication, her
father's in accents of fierce expostulation. At length she heard her
own name mentioned and then she could contain herself no longer.
Opening the door noiselessly she entered the room. The two men were
face to face, looking at each other with flaming eyes.