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Updated: June 13, 2025
Pete inquired the hour of its return journey, and was told that it started back at six. He helped the girl to alight, and directed her to the pier, where a crowd of people' were awaiting the arrival of the steamer. Then he rejoined Philip, who led the way through the town. The Deemster was observed by everybody.
Inside the Court-house the upper arcs of the windows had been let down; the sun shone on the Deemster as he sat on the dais, and the spring breeze played with his silvery wig. Some^ times, in the pauses of rasping voices, the birds were heard to sing from the trees on the lawn outside. The trial was a tedious and protracted one. It was the trial of Black Tom.
"The Psalms is about right then, Cæsar," shouted Black Tom from between two constables. In the commotion that followed on the prisoner's noisy removal, the Clerk of the Court was heard to speak to the Deemster.
He was sitting on a dais with a wooden canopy above him, the English coat of arms behind, and a great book in front; his hands shook as he turned the leaves; he felt his leg hang heavily; people bowed low to him, and dropped their voices in his presence; he was the Deemster, and he was old. A young woman stood in the dock, dripping water from her hair, and she had covered her face with her hands.
The Governor saw his advantage, but little did he guess the pitiless power of it. "The fellow is your kinsman, Deemster, and I shall not ask you to deal with him. That would be inhuman. If there is no hope of restraining him to-morrow wise as he is, if he will not listen to saner counsels, I will only beg of you but this is a matter for the police. You are a high official now.
"Hall Caine has already given us some very strong and fine work, and 'The Deemster' is a story of unusual power.... Certain passages and chapters have an intensely dramatic grasp, and hold the fascinated reader with a force rarely excited nowadays in literature." The Critic. "One of the strongest novels which has appeared in many a day." San Francisco Chronicle.
'Who's that? says I. 'Bishop Cæsar, the publican who else? says he." "I marvel at thee, Thomas," said Cæsar, half through the small door of the portcullis, "but the sons of Belial have to fight hard for his throne. That night Cæsar visited the Deemster at Elm Cottage. His eyes glittered, and there was a look of frenzy in his face.
He was a success, his father had been a failure. At seven-and-twenty he was Deemster at all events; at thirty his father had died a broken man. He had got what he had worked for; he had recovered the place of his people; and yet how mean a man he was compared to him who had done nothing and lost all.
One was sealed with his seal as Deemster; the other was written on the official paper of Government House. He was instructing the messenger to register these letters when, through the open door, he heard a formidable voice in the hall. It was Pete's voice. A moment afterwards Jem-y-Lord came up with a startled face. "He's here himself, your Excellency. Whatever am I to do with him?"
The reference to the Deemster himself! And the Deemster had sat there and seen through it all as the sun sees through glass, yet he had given no sign, he had never spoken; he had held a quivering, naked heart in his hand, while his own lay within as cold as a stone. Curse him, O God! Curse him!
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