him strange things that have befallen."

Sir George then, at her request, rode over to Lancaster, and inserted
the above in the county paper, and also in a small sheet that was issued
in the city three times a week. He had also handbills to the same effect
printed, and sent into Cumberland and Westmoreland. Finally, he sent a
copy to his man of business in London, with orders to insert it in all
the journals.

Then he returned to the "Packhorse," and told Mercy what he had done.

The next day he bade her farewell, and away for Carlisle. It was a two
days' journey. He reached Carlisle in the evening, and went all glowing
to Mrs. Gaunt. "Madam," said he, "be of good cheer. I bless the day I
went to see her; she is an angel of wit and goodness."

He then related to her, in glowing terms, most that had passed between
Mercy and him. But, to his surprise, Mrs. Gaunt wore a cold, forbidding
air.

"This is all very well," said she. "But 't will avail me little unless
_he_ comes before the judge and clears me; and she will never let him do
that."

"Ay, that she will,--if she can find him."

"If she can find him? How simple you are!"

"Nay, madam, not so simple but I can tell a good woman from a bad one,
and a true from a false."

"What! when you are in love with her? Not if you were the wisest of your
sex."

"In love with her?" cried Sir George; and colored high.

"Ay," said the lady. "Think you I cannot tell? Don't deceive yourself.
You have gone and fallen in love with her. At your years! Not that 'tis
any business of mine."

"Well, madam," said Sir George, stiffly, "say what you please on that
score; but at least welcome my good news."

Mrs. Gaunt begged him to excuse her petulance, and thanked him kindly
for all he had just done. But the next moment she rose from her chair in
great agitation, and burst out, "I'd as lief die as owe anything to that
woman."

Sir George remonstrated. "Why hate her? She does not hate you."

"O, yes, she does. 'Tis not in nature she should do any other."

"Her acts prove the contrary."

"Her acts! She has _done_ nothing, but make fair promises; and that has
blinded you. Women of this sort are very cunning, and never show their
real characters to a man. No more; prithee mention not her name to me.
It makes me ill. I know he is with her at this moment Ah, let me die,
and be forgotten, since I am no more beloved."

The voice was sad and weary now, and the tears ran fast.

P