Just as he concluded, the door opened, and a burly form entered.
Griffith rose, and embraced him with his arms and lips, after the
fashion of the day. "Welcome, thou one honest priest!" said he.
"Welcome, thrice welcome, my long lost son!" said the cordial Francis.
"Sit down, man, and eat with me. I'll begin again, for you."
"Presently, Squire; I've work to do first. Go thou and bid thy mistress
come hither to me."
Ryder, to whom this was addressed, went out, and left the gentlemen
together.
Father Francis drew out of his pocket two packets, carefully tied and
sealed. He took a knife from the table and cut the strings, and broke
the seals. Griffith eyed him with curiosity.
Father Francis looked at him. "These," said he, very gravely, "are the
letters that Brother Leonard hath written, at sundry times, to Catharine
Gaunt, and these are the letters Catharine Gaunt hath written to Brother
Leonard."
Griffith trembled, and his face was convulsed.
"Let me read them at once," said he: and stretched out his hand, with
eyes like a dog's in the dark.
Francis withdrew them, quietly. "Not till she is also present," said he.
At that Griffith's good-nature, multiplied by a good supper, took the
alarm. "Come, come, sir," said he, "have a little mercy. I know you are
a just man, and, though a boon companion, most severe in all matters of
morality. But, I tell you plainly, if you are going to drag this poor
woman in the dirt, I shall go out of the room. What is the use
tormenting her? I've told her my mind before her own child: and now I
wish I had not. When I caught them in the grove I lifted my hand to
strike her, and she never winced; I had better have left that alone too,
methinks. D--n the women: you are always in the wrong if you treat 'em
like men. They are not wicked: they are weak. And this one hath lain in
my bosom, and borne me two children, and one he lieth in the churchyard,
and t' other hath her hair and my very eyes: and the truth is, I can't
bear any man on earth to miscall her, but myself. God help me; I doubt I
love her still too well to sit by and see her tortured. She was all in
black for her fault, poor penitent wretch. Give me the letters; but let
her be."
Francis was moved by this appeal, but shook his head solemnly; and, ere
Griffith could renew his argument, the door was flung open by Ryder, and
a stately figure sailed in, that took both the gentlemen by surprise.
It was Mrs. Gaunt,
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