"Fenella, there must be something we can do."

"Charles, you go to her. It will comfort her. You are her father. You go to her. I believe she would wish to see you."

He shrank from her and she laughed suddenly in mocking anger.

"That would be tragic, wouldn't it? You might be seen. Why is Sir Charles Trevenning visiting a young girl who has been found guilty of murder and sentenced to death ? Oh no, you must not be seen. There must be no rumours concerning you. Your daughter can hang by the neck until she is dead, but that is of small account as long as no one knows she is your child."

"Fenella, I beg of you, be silent. I will go. Of course I will go."

She stood up and stared at him.

He took a few steps towards her, holding out his arms. She ran to him and threw herself against him. She was crying.

He said: "Melisande ... Melisande ... my daughter ... my little girl."

She looked at him, smiling. "We are as we were in Paris. Do you remember ? Then I had to pretend ... that you were my father. You were bringing me from my finishing school, and we pretended, so that people should not talk."

"It was no pretence," he said.

"No," she said, "it was no pretence."

"I did what I thought would be best for us ... for us both."

She nodded. "Yes. You wanted me to have a husband ... and a dowry."

"You are trembling."

She answered; "It would have been so much better if you had not talked of a dowry."

She saw how old he had become. Anxiety had put those lines about his face and the shadows under his eyes.

"You should not have come," she said. "So much leaks out. They write in the papers about me."

"It does not matter. It does not matter now."

"But they will wonder why you ... a man in your position ... should come here."

"Then they must wonder."

"You must not come again."

"I wish I could stay with you all the time."

"Oh, no, no. It would do no good. I am happy because you came. I always wanted to have a parent. Mother ... father ... it did not matter which. All the children in the Convent were like that. Home! They wanted homes. The nuns were good to us ... but homes ... fathers ... mothers, sisters and brothers ... they were like water in the desert, warmth in the snow, water to the thirsty, food to the hungry. Do you understand?"

"I understand. And I am sorry ... deeply sorry."

"Why? You must not be sorry. I was one of the lucky ones. There was a little girl, Anne-Marie. Her rich aunt came for her. But you came for me ... my own father. That was better than a rich aunt. Yet I did not want you to come here."

"Why not? Why not, Melisande?"

"Because people may say: 'Why did he visit her? What is the relationship between them?' And then everything would have been in vain."

"What do you mean ... in vain?"

"That people must not know. There would be scandal. Think of your life at Trevenning. There you are so respected. Think of your friends ... your position ... your relations ... all those things which mean so much to you. It was because of that that I am here now. It was because of that that I killed him."

"You killed him for that ... for me ...? I don't understand, Melisande."

"It does not matter now, does it? All is over and done. I know now what you have done for me ... how much. ... I know what it must have cost you to come to the Convent, to sit outside the auberge ... you, who thought so highly of your position. Yet you came to see me, you ran risks for me. I never forget it. I was hurt when you sent me away from Trevenning. I was hurt because the opinion of the servants meant more to you than my presence there. But now I understand. I understand so much. I have had nothing but kindness from you. I was only your illegitimate daughter, wasn't I? I was not the same as Caroline. And you did so much for me. You were so concerned. You tried to find me a husband and would have given me a dowry. And now you come here and see me, and you risk so much. It grieves me that you should risk so much. It was for you that I killed him. For you ... and perhaps for myself... for my self-respect, I think. Yes, I think that was the main reason. I had betrayed you. I had told him your name and what you were to me ... and he threatened that he would demand money ... money from you for the rest of your life."

He was silent, staring at her.

She went on gently: "You must not be upset. It is all over. I do not think I shall mind dying. It is all over very quickly, they say. And I think they will be gentle with me. Oh, don't, I beg of you ... I cannot bear to see you weep. You, who are proud and so full of dignity. Please ... please ... do not, I beg of you."

But he could not restrain his tears. He put his arms about her and murmured brokenly: "Melisande ... Melisande ... my daughter."

It was she who had to comfort him.

They sat round Fenella's table—Fermor, Charles, Leon and Andrew Beddoes.

Fenella looked from one to another, her eyes alert. Charles had come to her from his interview with Melisande, and Fenella had lost no time in summoning the others.

"Now," she cried, "we know the reason. We know why she killed him. Mr. Beddoes, you are a lawyer. What next?"

Andrew said: "If we had known before... . If she had spoken... . But she has been sentenced to death. ..."

"It is no use going over what has happened," said Fermor roughly. "What can we do next?"

"If we can save her from death ..." began Leon.

"If we can save her!" cried Fermor. "Of course we can save her. We must save her. If necessary ..."

Fenella laid a hand on his arm. "Fermor, be calm, my dear. You are thinking of storming the prison, riding away with her. These are modern times and you cannot do such things. But what we can do is consider this quietly, logically, and with all speed. We must approach this in the modern way. We must not think of breaking into her prison, but breaking through rules and regulations. Our means will not be ladders and ropes, but influence in the right quarters. That is how things are done in the modern world. So let us be calm and think clearly."

"He was a blackmailer," said Andrew. "Blackmailers are despised by all decent people. There is little sympathy for them, and leniency is often shown to those who attack them. And in her case it was not even to save herself that she killed this man. She was thinking of her father. If she had said so ... oh, if only she had told this in the court... most certainly it would not have been the death sentence."

"It is no use saying !" cried Fermor. "She has! And what now ? What do we do ? We sit here saying if... if... if! How does that help her? We've got to get her out."

Andrew said: "She would, of course, be sentenced to a term of imprisonment ... no matter what motive she had. No one can kill and escape altogether."

"How long would she ...?" said Leon. "How long?"

"Ten years perhaps. Who knows?"

"Ten years!" cried Leon and Fermor together.

Fenella said: "Now this is not getting us far. Let us deal with the first thing first. She must be reprieved. I have made many friends over the last twenty or thirty years. I have always believed that a word in the right quarter ... a little discreet suggestion by someone in a high place ..."

They were all looking at her eagerly.

"Please do not hope for too much," she went on. "I cannot say whether I shall succeed. I can only try. I shall go now ... at once ... to see an old friend of mine ... someone who, I know, will help me if he can. I am going to plead with him ... beg him ... go down on my knees to him. I am going to show him how I consider myself involved in this. I am going to tell him the whole story. I am going to make him do all that can be done ... if I am able to. Charles, I want you to come with me. I want you to wait in the carriage while I see him. I shall not ask you to come in with me at first, but perhaps later I may need you. He will have to know whose daughter she is. I must hold nothing back from him."

Charles rose and Fenella, standing beside him, laid her hand on his arm.

She said: "Everybody in this room is fond of her. There is not one of us, I know, who would not do everything in his power to save her."

"Everything I have ..." said Charles.

She looked at him and thought: Your fortune, your name ... everything... . That is how it is with all of us. We are so shallow in our ordinary lives, but when tragedy comes, when there is need to show the best in ourselves, we find that we are, perhaps, a little better than we thought we were.

"If it is a question of money ..." said Fermor.

Leon put in: "I inherited a fortune. I can ..."

She waved them back.

"We have money," she said looking at Fermor and Leon. "We have skill." She looked at Andrew. "And we have the will of a father to save his daughter at all cost to himself. And in addition we have my little bit ... my friendships ... my influence. Oh, I have had many friends; too many friends, some say. But can one have too many friends? Come along, Charles."

She turned in her gracious way and looked at the three men who were watching her and Charles. She said: "Wait here. We will come back and tell you the result."

They waited—Fermor, Leon and Andrew. They stood at the window and watched the carriage drive away.

Then they sat down or paced the room while the time passed with maddening sloth.

The news was spreading through London and the country.