on the way, when I heard some one fall with a great splash
into the mere, and soon after cry dolefully for help. I,
that am no swimmer, ran instantly to the north side to a
clump of trees, where a boat used always to be kept. But the
boat was not there. Then I cried lustily for help, and, as
no one came, I fired my pistol and cried murder! For I had
heard men will come sooner to that cry than to any other.
But in truth I was almost out of my wits, that a
fellow-creature should perish miserably so near me. Whilst I
ran wildly to and fro, some came out of the Castle bearing
torches. By this time I was at the bridge, but saw no signs
of the drowning man; yet the night was clear. Then I knew
that his fate was sealed; and, for reasons of my own, not
choosing to be seen by those who were coming to his aid, I
hastened from the place. My happiness being gone, and my
conscience smiting me sore, and not knowing whither to turn,
I took to drink, and fell into bad ways, and lived like a
brute, and not a man, for six weeks or more; so that I never
knew of the good fortune that had fallen on me when least I
deserved it: I mean by old Mr. Gaunt of Coggleswade making
of me his heir. But one day at Kendal I saw Mercy Vint's
advertisement; and I went to her, and learned that my wife
lay in Carlisle jail for my supposed murder. But I say that
she is innocent, and nowise to blame in this matter: for I
deserved every hard word she ever gave me; and as for
killing, she is a spirited woman with her tongue, but hath
not the heart to kill a fly. She is what she always
was,--the pearl of womankind; a virtuous, innocent, and
noble lady. I have lost the treasure of her love by my
fault, not hers; but at least I have a right to defend her
life and honor. Whoever molests her after this, out of
pretended regard for me, is a liar, and a fool, and no
friend of mine, but my enemy, and I his--to the death.

"GRIFFITH GAUNT."

It was a day of surprises. This tribute from the murdered man to his
assassin was one of them. People looked in one another's faces
open-eyed.

The prisoner looked in the judge's, and acted on what she saw there.
"That is my defence," said she, quietly, and sat down.

If a show of hands had been called at that moment, she would have been
acquitted by acclamation.