--who sat at the end of the table
beside the window, turned and gazed out upon the clouds and the sea,
as if, contempt having taken the place of curiosity, he had no further
interest in the proceedings. As for me, I set my face like a flint,
and looked past the man who might have saved me that last speech of the
Governor's as if he had never been.

There was a closed door in the cabin, opposite the one by which I had
entered. Suddenly from behind it came the sound of a short struggle,
followed by the quick turn of a key in the lock. The door was flung
open, and two women entered the cabin. One, a fair young gentlewoman,
with tears in her brown eyes, came forward hurriedly with outspread
hands.

"I did what I could, Frank!" she cried. "When she would not listen to
reason, I e'en locked the door; but she is strong, for all that she has
been ill, and she forced the key out of my hand!" She looked at the red
mark upon the white hand, and two tears fell from her long lashes upon
her wild-rose cheeks.

With a smile the Governor put out an arm and drew her down upon a stool
beside him, then rose and bowed low to the King's ward. "You are not yet
well enough to leave your cabin, as our worthy physician general will
assure you, lady," he said courteously, but firmly. "Permit me to lead
you back to it."

Still smiling he made as if to advance, when she stayed him with a
gesture of her raised hand, at once so majestic and so pleading that it
was as though a strain of music had passed through the stillness of the
cabin.

"Sir Francis Wyatt, as you are a gentleman, let me speak," she said.
It was the voice of that first night at Weyanoke, all pathos, all
sweetness, all entreating.

The Governor stopped short, the smile still upon his lips, his hand
still outstretched,--stood thus for a moment, then sat down. Around the
half circle of gentlemen went a little rustling sound, like wind in dead
leaves. My lord half rose from his seat. "She is bewitched," he said,
with dry lips. "She will say what she has been told to say. Lest she
speak to her shame, we should refuse to hear her."

She had been standing in the centre of the floor, her hands clasped, her
body bowed toward the Governor, but at my lord's words she straightened
like a bow unbent. "I may speak, your Honor?" she asked clearly.

The Governor, who had looked askance at the working face of the
man beside him, slightly bent his head and leaned back in his great
armchai