Gaunt.

There were no signs of him; and Sir George returned to his parlor
heavy-hearted. One hope, the greatest of all, had been defeated
directly. Still, it was just possible that Griffith might be away on
temporary business.

In this faint hope Sir George strolled about till his supper was ready
for him.

When he had eaten his supper, he rang the bell, and, taking advantage of
a common custom, insisted on the landlord, Thomas Leicester, taking a
glass with him.

"Thomas Leicester!" said the girl. "He is not at home. But I'll send
Master Vint."

Old Vint came in, and readily accepted an invitation to drink his
guest's health.

Sir George found him loquacious, and soon extracted from him that his
daughter Mercy was Leicester's wife, that Leicester was gone on a
journey, and that Mercy was in care for him. "Leastways," said he, "she
is very dull, and cries at times when her mother speaks of him; but she
is too close to say much."

All this puzzled Sir George Neville sorely.

But greater surprises were in store.

The next morning, after breakfast, the servant came and told him Dame
Leicester desired to see him.

He started at that, but put on nonchalance, and said he was at her
service.

He was ushered into another parlor, and there he found a grave, comely
young woman, seated working, with a child on the floor beside her. She
rose quietly; he bowed low and respectfully; she blushed faintly; but,
with every appearance of self-possession, courtesied to him; then eyed
him point-blank a single moment, and requested him to be seated.

"I hear, sir," said she, "you did ask my father many questions last
night. May I ask you one?"

Sir George colored, but bowed assent.

"From whom had you the black horse you ride?"

Now, if Sir George had not been a veracious man, he would have been
caught directly. But, although he saw at once the oversight he had
committed, he replied, "I had him of a lady in Cumberland, one Mistress
Gaunt."

Mercy Vint trembled. "No doubt," said she, softly. "Excuse my question:
you shall understand that the horse is well known here."

"Madam," said Sir George, "if you admire the horse, he is at your
service for twenty pounds, though indeed he is worth more."

"I thank you, sir," said Mercy; "I have no desire for the horse
whatever. And be pleased to excuse my curiosity: you must think me
impertinent."

"Nay, madam," said Sir George, "I consider nothing impertinent that hath
procu