of these remarks I leave the court to decide upon. But you cannot be allowed to give evidence in your own defence."
"No, but in hers I will," said Mrs. Gaunt. "No power shall hinder me."
Judge (coldly). Had you not better go on cross-examining the witness?
Whitworth. Let me see your marriage-certificate, if you have one?
It was handed to him.
Well, now how do you know that this Thomas Leicester was Griffith Gaunt?
Judge. Why, she has told you he confessed it to her.
Mercy. Yes, my lord; and, besides, he wrote me two letters signed Thomas Leicester. Here they are, and I desire they may be compared with the paper he wrote last Wednesday, and signed Griffith Gaunt. And more than that, whilst we lived together as man and wife, one Hamilton, a travelling painter, took our portraits, his and mine. I have brought his with me. Let his friends and neighbors look on this portrait, and say whose likeness it is. What I say and swear is, that on Wednesday last I saw and spoke with that Thomas Leicester, or Griffith Gaunt, whose likeness I now show you.
With that she lifted the portrait up, and showed it all the court.
Instantly there was a roar of recognition.
It was one of those hard daubs that are nevertheless so monstrously like the originals.
Judge (to Mr. Whitworth). Young gentleman, we are all greatly obliged to you. You have made the prisoner's case. There was but one weak point in it; I mean the prolonged absence of Griffith Gaunt. You have now accounted for that. You have forced a very truthful witness to depose that this Gaunt is himself a criminal, and is hiding from fear of the law. The case for the crown is a mere tissue of conjectures, on which no jury could safely convict, even if there was no defence at all. Under other circumstances I might decline to receive evidence at second-hand that Griffith Gaunt is alive. But here such evidence is sufficient, for it lies on the crown to prove the man dead; but you have only proved that he was alive on the fifteenth of October, and that since then somebody is dead with shoes on. This somebody appears on the balance of proof to be Thomas Leicester, the pedler; and he has never been heard of since, and Griffith Gaunt has. Then I say you cannot carry the case further. You have not a leg to stand on. What say you, Brother Wiltshire?
Wiltshire. My lord, I think there is no case against the prisoner, and am thankful to your lordship for relieving me of a very unpleasant task.
The question of guilty or not guilty was then put to the jury, who instantly brought the prisoner in not guilty.
Judge. Catharine Gaunt, you leave this court without a stain, and with our sincere respect and sympathy. I much regret the fear and pain you have been put to: you have been terribly punished for a hasty word. Profit now by this bitter lesson; and may Heaven enable you to add a well-governed spirit to your many virtues and graces.
He half rose from his seat, and bowed courteously to her. She courtesied reverently, and retired.
He then said a few words to Mercy Vint.
"Young woman, I have no words to praise you as you deserve. You have shown us the beauty of the female character, and, let me add, the beauty of the Christian religion. You have come a long way to clear the innocent. I hope you will not stop there; but also punish the guilty person, on whom we have wasted so much pity."
"Me, my lord?" said Mercy. "I would not harm a hair of his head for as many guineas as there be hairs in mine."
"Child," said my lord, "thou art too good for this world; but go thy ways, and God bless thee."
