CHAPTER IX.
BY MRS. LOVETT CAMERON.
And my soul from out that shadow that h'es floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—Nevermore!
She was free—free to go where she pleased—to do as she liked. The hideous nightmare of the trial was over; a jury of her countrymen had brought in a verdict of "Justifiable homicide." The laws of her country had given her back her liberty, and Fenella was a free woman.
Perhaps the jury had not been altogether, unimpressed by the pale loveliness of the unhappy girl who had stood before them as "prisoner in the dock" during those two terrible days; perhaps the sight of the small pale face, of the piteous brown eyes, of the childish rosy lips that quivered a little, yet that never swerved in that one statement that they repeated through all the weary examination and cross-examination, may have influenced those rough men, who held her life in their hands, more than they had any idea of.
"I confess it. I killed him; he attempted my life, and I killed him in self-defense."
98
