ever, aroused vague suspicions in Mrs. Vint's mind, and she
went and whispered them to her favorite, Paul Carrick. "And, Paul," said
she, "call for what you like, and score it to me; only treat this pedler
till he leaks out summut: to be sure he'll tell a man more than he will
us."

Paul entered with zeal into this commission: treated the pedler to a
chop, and plied him well with the best ale.

All this failed to loose the pedler's tongue at the time, but it muddled
his judgment: on resuming his journey, he gave his entertainer a wink.
Carrick rose and followed him out.

"You seem a decent lad," said the pedler, "and a good-hearted one. Wilt
do me a favor?"

Carrick said he would, if it lay in his power.

"O, it is easy enow," said the pedler. "'T is just to give young Thomas
Leicester, into his own hand, this here trifle as soon as ever he comes
home." And he handed Carrick a hard substance wrapped up in paper.
Carrick promised.

"Ay, ay, lad," said the pedler, "but see you play fair, and give it him
unbeknown. Now don't you be so simple as show it to any of the
womenfolk. D' ye understand?"

"All right," said Carrick, knowingly. And so the boon companions for a
day shook hands and parted.

And Carrick took the little parcel straight to Mrs. Vint, and told her
every word the pedler had said.

And Mrs. Vint took the little parcel straight to Mercy, and told her
what Carrick said the pedler had said.

And the pedler went off flushed with beer and self-complacency; for he
thought he had drawn the line precisely; had faithfully discharged his
promise to his lady and benefactress, but not so as to make mischief in
another household.

Such was the power of Ale--in the last century.

Mercy undid the paper and found the bullet, on which was engraved

"I LOVE KATE."

As she read these words a knife seemed to enter her heart, the pang was
so keen.

But she soon took herself to task. "Thou naughty woman," said she.
"What! jealous of the dead?"

She wrapped the bullet up; put it carefully away; had a good cry; and
was herself again.

But all this set her watching Griffith, and reading his face. She had
subtle, vague misgivings, and forbade her mother to mention the pedler's
visit to Griffith yet awhile. Womanlike she preferred to worm out the
truth.

On the evening of his return from Lancaster, as he was smoking his pipe,
she quietly tested him. She fixed her eyes on him, and said, "One was
here to-da