to say. Especially he resented the look of desolate despair in
Clarice's eyes, and the physical exhaustion and mental agony written in
every line of her white face. He would not have liked to admit that he
felt them all as so many trumpet-tongued accusers against him.
"I desired you all to assemble," said the Earl, in tones as gentle as
usual, but with an under-current of pain, "because I wish to inquire in
what manner our poor little darling met her death. How came she to fall
down the staircase?"
He looked at Heliet, and she was the one to reply.
"It was an accident, my Lord, I think," she said.
"`You think?' Is there some doubt, then?"
No one answered him but Ademar. "Pardon me, my Lord; I was not
present."
"Then I ask one who was present. Dame Heliet?"
"I hope there is no doubt, my Lord," answered Heliet. "I should be
sorry to think so."
The bushy eyebrows, which were the only blemish to the handsome
Plantagenet face of the Earl, were lowered at this reply.
"What am I to understand by that?" he asked. "Did the child throw
herself down of her own will?"
"Oh, no, my Lord, no!"
"Did any one push her down?"
Dead silence.
"Sir Ademar was not present. Were you, Sir Vivian?"
Vivian, whose face was far more eloquent in this instance than his
tongue, muttered an affirmative.
"Then you can answer me. Did any one push her down?"
Vivian's reply was unintelligible, being hardly articulate.
"Will you have the goodness to repeat that, if you please?" said his
master.
In Clarice's heart a terrible tempest had been raging. Ought she not to
speak, and declare the fact of which she felt sure, that Vivian had not
been intentionally the murderer of his child? that whatever he might
have done, he had meant no more than simply to push her aside?
Conscientiousness strove hard with bitterness and revenge. Why should
she go out of her way to shield the man who had been the misery of her
life from the just penalty which he deserved for having made that life
more desolate than ever? She knew that her voice would be the most
potent there--that her vote would outweigh twenty others. The pleading
of the bereaved mother in favour of the father of the dead child was
just what would make its way straight to the heart of his judge.
Clarice's own heart said passionately, No! Rosie's dead face must stand
between him and her for ever. But then upon her spirit's fever fell
calming words--words whi
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