_ BOOK II. THE WEAVING OF A WEB
CHAPTER XXVI. "HE SHALL HEAR ME!"
There's some ill planet reigns;
I must be patient till the heavens look
With an aspect more favorable.--WINTER'S TALE.
THE time is midnight, the day the same as that which saw this irruption of Hickory into Professor Darling's observatory; the scene that of Miss Dare's own room in the northeast tower. She is standing before a table with a letter in her hand and a look upon her face that, if seen, would have added much to the puzzlement of the detectives.
The letter was from Mr. Orcutt and ran thus:
I have seen Mr. Mansell, and have engaged myself
to undertake his defence. When I tell you that out
of the hundreds of cases I have tried in my still
short life, I have lost but a small percentage,
you will understand what this means.
In pursuance to your wishes, I mentioned your name
to the prisoner with an intimation that I had a
message from you to deliver. But he stopped me
before I could utter a word. "I receive no
communication from Miss Dare!" he declared, and,
anxious as I really was to do your bidding, I was
compelled to refrain; for his tone was one of
hatred and his look that of ineffable scorn.
This was all, but it was enough. Imogene had read these words over three times, and now was ready to plunge the letter into the flame of a candle to destroy it. As it burned, her grief and indignation took words:
"He is alienated, completely alienated," she gasped; "and I do not wonder. But," and here the full majesty of her nature broke forth in one grand gesture, "he shall hear me yet! As there is a God above, he shall hear me yet, even if it has to be in the open court and in the presence of judge and jury!" _