, and groaned with horror
and remorse, beside her.

He had not the courage to tell her the horrible truth,--that Kate was
his wife, and she was not.

"Do not thou afflict thyself," he muttered. "Of course, with you putting
that bullet in my hand so sudden, it set my fancy a wandering back to
other days."

"Ah!" said Mercy, "if it be no worse than that, there's little harm. But
why did thy namesake start so at sight of thy picture?"

"My namesake!" cried Griffith, all aghast.

"Ay, he that brought thee that love-token,--Thomas Leicester. Nay, for
very shame, feign not ignorance of him. Why, he hath thy very mole on
his temple, and knew thy picture in a moment. He is thy half-brother; is
he not?"

"I am a ruined man," cried Griffith, and sank into a chair without power
of motion.

"God help me, what is all this?" cried Mercy. "O Thomas, Thomas, I could
forgive thee aught but deceit: for both our sakes speak out, and tell me
the worst. No harm shall come near thee while I live."

"How can I tell thee? I am an unfortunate man. The world will call me a
villain; yet I am not a villain at heart. But who will believe me? I
have broken the law. Thee I could trust, but not thy folk; they never
loved me. Mercy, for pity's sake, when was that Thomas Leicester here?"

"Four days ago."

"Which way went he?"

"I hear he told Paul he was going to Cumberland."

"If he gets there before me, I shall rot in gaol."

"Now God forbid! O Thomas, then mount and ride after him."

"I will, and this very moment."

He saddled Black Dick, and loaded his pistols for the journey; but, ere
he went, a pale face looked out into the yard, and a finger beckoned. It
was Mercy. She bade him follow her. She took him to her room, where
their child was sleeping; and then she closed and even locked the door.

"No soul can hear us," said she; "now look me in the face, and tell me
God's truth. Who and what are you?"

Griffith shuddered at this exordium; he made no reply.

Mercy went to a box and took out an old shirt of his,--the one he wore
when he first came to the "Packhorse." She brought it to him and showed
him "G. G." embroidered on it with a woman's hair. (Ryder's.)

"Here are your initials," said she; "now leave useless falsehoods; be a
man, and tell me your real name."

"My name is Griffith Gaunt."

Mercy, sick at heart, turned her head away; but she had the resolution
to urge him on. "Go on," said she, in an agonized whisper: "