brief and decisive. She heard the verdict, Guilty of
manslaughter. And every word uttered by the judge in pronouncing sentence fell
upon her like an unforgettable sound that would come back in dreaming and in
waking. She had her eyes on Felix, and at the word, Imprisonment for four years.
she saw his lip tremble. But otherwise he stood firm and calm.
    Esther gave a start from her seat. Her heart swelled with a horrible
sensation of pain; but, alarmed lest she should lose her self-command, she
grasped Mrs Transome's hand, getting some strength from that human contact.
    Esther saw that Felix had turned. She could no longer see his face. »Yes,«
she said, drawing down her veil, »let us go.«
 

                                   Chapter 47

 The devil tempts us not - 'tis we tempt him.
 Beckoning his skill with opportunity.
 
The more permanent effect of Esther's action in the trial was visible in a
meeting which took place the next day in the principal room of the White Hart at
Loamford. To the magistrates and other county gentlemen who were drawn together
about noon, some of the necessary impulse might have been lacking but for that
stirring of heart in certain just-spirited men and good fathers among them,
which had been raised to a high pitch of emotion by Esther's maidenly fervour.
Among these one of the foremost was Sir Maximus Debarry, who had come to the
assizes with a mind, as usual, slightly rebellious under an influence which he
never ultimately resisted - the influence of his son. Philip Debarry himself was
detained in London, but in his correspondence with his father he had urged him,
as well as his uncle Augustus, to keep eyes and interest awake on the subject of
Felix Holt, whom, from all the knowledge of the case he had been able to obtain,
he was inclined to believe peculiarly unfortunate rather than guilty. Philip had
said he was the more anxious that his family should intervene benevolently in
this affair, if it were possible, because he understood that Mr Lyon took the
young man's case particularly to heart, and he should always regard himself as
obliged to the old preacher. At this superfineness of consideration Sir Maximus
had vented a few »pshaws!« and, in relation to the whole affair, had grumbled
that Phil was always setting him to do he didn't know what - always seeming to
turn nothing into something by dint of words which hadn't so much substance as a
mote behind them. Nevertheless he was coerced; and in reality he was willing to