one o'clock in the morning, followed at a short distance by a tall man with a knapsack, or the like, on his back.
The person who gave this tardy information was the wife of a certain farmer's man, who wired hares upon the sly. The man himself, being assured that, in a case so serious as this, no particular inquiries should be made how he came to be out so late, confirmed what his wife had let out, and added, that both men had taken the way that would lead them to the bridge, meaning the bridge over the mere. More than that he could not say, for he had met them, and was full half a mile from the mere before those men could have reached it.
Following up this clew, Mr. Atkins learned so many ugly things, that he went to the Bench on justicing day, and demanded a full and searching inquiry on the premises.
Sir George Neville, after in vain opposing this, rode off straight from the Bench to Hernshaw, and in feeling terms conveyed the bad news to Mrs. Gaunt; and then, with the utmost delicacy, let her know that some suspicion rested upon herself, which she would do well to meet with the bold front of innocence.
"What suspicion, pray?" said Mrs. Gaunt, haughtily.
Sir George shrugged his shoulders, and replied, "That you have done Gaunt the honor to put him out of the way."
Mrs. Gaunt took this very differently from what Sir George expected.
"What!" she cried, "are they so sure he is dead,—murdered?"
And with this she went into a passion of grief and remorse.
Even Sir George was puzzled, as well as affected, by her convulsive agitation.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
Though it was known the proposed inquiry might result in the committal of Mrs. Gaunt on a charge of murder, yet the respect in which she had hitherto been held, and the influence of Sir George Neville, who, having been her lover, stoutly maintained her innocence, prevailed so far that even this inquiry was private, and at her own house. Only she was present in the character of a suspected person, and the witnesses were examined before her.
First, the poacher gave his evidence.
Then Jane, the cook, proved that a pedler called Thomas Leicester had been in the kitchen, and secreted about the premises till a late hour; and this Thomas Leicester corresponded exactly to the description given by the poacher.
This threw suspicion on Thomas Leicester, but did not connect Mrs. Gaunt with the deed in any way.
But Ryder's evidence filled this gap. She revealed three serious facts:—
First, that, by her mistress's orders, she had introduced this very Leicester into her mistress's room about midnight, where he had remained nearly half an hour, and had then left the house.
Secondly, that Mrs. Gaunt herself had been out of doors after midnight.
And, thirdly, that she had listened at the door, and heard her threaten Griffith Gaunt's life.
This is a mere précis of the evidence, and altogether it looked so suspicious, that the magistrates, after telling Mrs. Gaunt she could ask the witnesses any question she chose, a suggestion she treated with marked contempt, put their heads together a moment and whispered. Then the eldest of them, Mr. Underhill, who lived at a considerable distance, told her gravely he must commit her to take her trial at the next assizes.
"Do what you conceive to be your duty, gentlemen," said Mrs. Gaunt, with marvellous dignity. "If I do not assert my innocence, it is because I disdain the accusation too much."
"I shall take no part in the committal of this innocent lady," said Sir George Neville, and was about to leave the room.
But Mrs. Gaunt begged him to stay. "To be guilty is one thing," said she, "to be accused is another. I shall go
