For herself, Barbara Lanison had little thought, but her fears for
others troubled her. As a prisoner her power to help Gilbert Crosby was
grievously lessened. Doubtless she herself was to be accused of treason,
and Judge Marriott might be afraid to say a word at her bidding, or
perchance he would refuse if the power to make the sacrifice she
intended were taken from her. Death might be her punishment for treason,
and if so, where was Judge Marriott's reward? There was another
contingency: he might be able to save her, and he would certainly use
his efforts to this end instead of troubling about Crosby, no matter
what pleading she might use. As a prisoner she was, indeed, of little
use to Gilbert Crosby. She must see Judge Marriott and do her best, but
her hope of success was small. Who had brought this disaster upon her?
Surely her guardian, and Barbara's hands clenched in impotent rage to
think that he had outwitted her. Yet he could not be alone in the
matter, for it was not probable that he had openly accused her himself.
Had Rosmore anything to do with it? It was a new thought to Barbara. She
knew her uncle for a villain, but about Lord Rosmore she was undecided.
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