Like lightning out of a thunder-cloud the news fell on Government
House also. On hearing it the Governor, who had been thinking less
about the riot than about Stowell's last words if him, broke into
uncontrollable rage.
"The fool! The infernal fool! After I had given him such a chance,
too!"
With a determined step he went into the library, where Fenella was
writing letters, and broke the news to her with a kind of fierce joy.
At first her eyes filled with tears and then a proud smile shone
through them.
"You were right after all, Fenella. I see now that you must throw
the man up," said the Governor.
"On the contrary," said Fenella. "Now I must stand by him."
"What on earth do you mean?"
"I mean that Victor has justified himself."
"Justified himself?"
"Yes. The only thing I was afraid of was that he might take his life
to escape from his dishonour. But now that he has made his choice I
have made mine also."
"Your choice?"
"I cannot cut him out of my heart because he has been brave enough to
face the consequences of his crime."
"But good heavens, girl, don't you see that he will be brought up for
trial, and then all the wretched story of the Collister girl will
come out?"
"I'm prepared for that, father."
"Fenella," said the Governor, white with the passion that was
mastering him, "if you were my son instead of my daughter do you know
what I should do with you?"
"You mean you would turn me out of the house? There will be no need
for that--I will go of myself, father."
"Fenella! Fenella!" cried the Governor, recovering himself, but
Fenella had gone from the room.
The Governor returned to his smoking-room. For a long half-hour he
ranged about, kicking things out of his way, ringing bells and
snapping at the servants. What was Fenella doing? Could it be
possible that she was taking him at his word? Unable to contain
himself any longer he sent for Miss Green. He got nothing out of the
old lady except lamentations.
"Oh, dear, oh dear, what is the world coming to?"
At length, with an air of authority, he went up to Fenella's bedroom,
and found her on her knees before an open trunk into which she was
packing her clothes.
"Fenella," he said, "this is nonsense. It cannot be."
"I'm afraid it must be, father."
"Look here, girl, when a man's angry he doesn't always mean what he
says. I never meant you were to go."
"It's better that I should, father."
The Governor struggled hard with his pride and said,
"Listen. Don't make me ridiculous in the eyes of the whole island,
Fenella. I may not have acted wisely in relation to Stowell and the
advice I gave him--I see that now. But if so perhaps it was because
I was thinking less of the public service than of you. If you were a
father you would understand that. But you cannot wish to leave me.
You are my only child. I am your father, remember. What, after all,
is this man to you?"
Fenella leaned back on her heels and her eyelids quivered for a
moment. Then she said,
"We are told that a man must leave father and mother and cling to his
wife, and surely it's the same with a woman and her husband. Victor
is my husband, or soon will be."
"Good Lord, what are you saying, girl?"
"I promised myself to him, and I intend to keep my promise."
"But he's a prisoner, and if the governing authority objects...."
"In that case I'll wait until he is a prisoner no longer, and then
.... then I'll marry him."
"That you never shall. Not in this island anyway. No clergyman here
will marry you to that man against my wish."
"Then I'll go to him just the same."
"What?"
"Yes, I'm prepared even for that sacrifice."
"You're mad. You're both mad--stark mad."
Again the Governor returned to his smoking-room. After a while he
heard a hackney carriage coming up the drive to the porch, and then
old John, the watchman, lugging a trunk along the corridor. A moment
later, looking through the window, he saw Fenella, in the blue and
white costume of her Settlement (the same in which, with so much
pride, he had brought her up to the house from the pier in his big
landau), stepping into the coach.
Then his anger and emotion together burst all bounds. He tore open
his door with the intention of countermanding Fenella's orders and
driving the hackney carriage off his grounds. But before he could
bring himself to do so he heard the door of the carriage close and
saw its wheels moving away.
Miss Green came back to the house with her handkerchief to her eyes,
saying,
"She was crying as if her heart would break, poor darling!"
The Governor went slowly back to his room once more. The masterful
man, who had never known before what it was to have tears in his
eyes, was utterly broken. He had lost his daughter; he was to be a
childless man henceforward; he was to spend the rest of his life
alone. But after a while he thought of Stowell as the man who had
taken Fenella from him, and his anger rose again.
"He wants punishment, does he? Very well, he shall have it, and
damned quick too."
Two hours later Fenella was at Castle Rushen, in the living-room of
the new jailer and his wife.
"I hear you want a female warder, and I've come to offer myself," she
said.
The new jailer, who was embarrassed, stammered something about menial
labour, but Fenella was not to be gainsaid.
"I'm a trained nurse, and have experience in managing people--will
you take me?"
"Well .... if the Governor doesn't .... for the present, perhaps."
"For good," said Fenella.
Within a few minutes she was settled in her new quarters--a large,
dark, cell-like chamber, of irregular shape, with a deeply-recessed
window, a piece of cocoa-nut matting, a deal table, a chair, a
wash-stand and a truckle bed.
Two hundred years before it had been the 'tiring room of the greatest
of her ancestors, Charlotte de la Tremouille (Countess of Derby),
when, in the absence of her husband, she held the fortress for weeks
against the siege of Cromwell's forces.
The blood of the Stanleys was in it still.