ays ago?

_Mercy._ Ay, my lord; the last Wednesday that ever was.

At this the people burst out into a loud, agitated murmur, and their
heads went to and fro all the time. In vain the crier cried and
threatened. The noise rose and surged, and took its course. It went down
gradually, as amazement gave way to curiosity; and then there was a
remarkable silence; and then the silvery voice of the prisoner, and the
mellow tones of the witness, appeared to penetrate the very walls of the
building, each syllable of those two beautiful speakers was heard so
distinctly.

_Prisoner._ Be so good as to tell the court what passed on Wednesday
last between Griffith Gaunt and you, relative to this charge of murder.

_Mercy._ I let him know one George Neville had come from Cumberland in
search of him, and had told me you lay in Carlisle jail charged with his
murder. I did urge him to ride at once to Carlisle, and show himself;
but he refused. He made light of the matter. Then I told him not so; the
circumstances looked ugly, and your life was in peril. Then he said,
nay, 'twas in no peril; for if you were to be found guilty, then he
would show himself on the instant. Then I told him he was not worthy the
name of a man, and if he would not go, I would. "Go you, by all means,"
said he, "and I'll give you a writing that will clear her. Jack
Houseman will be there, that knows my hand; and so does the sheriff, and
half the grand jury at the least."

_Prisoner._ Have you that writing?

_Mercy._ To be sure I have. Here 't is.

_Prisoner._ Be pleased to read it.

_Judge._ Stay a minute. Shall you prove it to be his handwriting?

_Prisoner._ Ay, my lord, by as many as you please.

_Judge._ Then let that stand over for the present. Let me see it.

It was handed up to him; and he showed it to the sheriff, who said he
thought it was Griffith Gaunt's writing.

The paper was then read out to the jury. It ran as follows:--

"Know all men, that I, Griffith Gaunt, Esq., of Bolton Hall
and Hernshaw Castle, in the county of Cumberland, am alive
and well; and the matter which has so puzzled the good folk
in Cumberland befell as follows:--I left Hernshaw Castle in
the dead of night upon the fifteenth of October. Why, is no
man's business but mine. I found the stable locked; so I
left my horse, and went on foot. I crossed Hernshaw Mere by
the bridge, and had got about a hundred yards, as I suppose,