"That does seem clear," said Mary.
"But somebody suggests that Sam had borrowed the cart. I believe, however, that it will all come out;—only, if I have to pay four hundred pounds I shall think that Farmer Trumbull has cost me very dear."
On the next morning Gilmore came to the vicarage. It had been arranged that he would drive Fenwick over to Heytesbury, and that he would call for him after breakfast. A somewhat late hour,—two in the afternoon,—had been fixed for going on with the murder case, as it was necessary that a certain constable should come down from London on that morning; and, therefore, there would be no need for the two men to start very early from Bullhampton. This was explained to Mary by Mrs. Fenwick. "He dines here to-day," she had said when they met in the morning before prayers, "and you may as well get over the first awkwardness at once." Mary had assented to this, and, after breakfast, Gilmore made his appearance among them in the garden. He was just one moment alone with the girl he loved.
"Miss Lowther," he said, "I cannot be with you for an instant without telling you that I am unchanged."
Mary made no reply, and he said nothing further. Mrs. Fenwick was with them so quickly that there was no need for a reply,—and then he was gone. During the whole day the two friends talked of the murder, and of the Brattles, and the chapel,—which was thoroughly inspected from the roof to the floor,—but not a word was said about the loves of Harry Gilmore or Walter Marrable. Gilmore's name was often mentioned as the whole story was told of Lord Trowbridge's new quarrel, and of the correspondence with the bishop,—of which Fenwick had learned the particulars from the bishop's chaplain. And in the telling of this story Mrs. Fenwick did not scruple to express her opinion that Harry Gilmore had behaved well, with good spirit, and like a true friend. "If the Marquis had been anywhere near his own age I believe he would have horsewhipped him," said the Vicar's wife, with that partiality for the corporal chastisement of an enemy which is certainly not uncommon to the feminine mind. This was all very well, and called for no special remark from Mary, and possibly might have an effect.
The gentlemen returned late in the evening, and the Squire dressed at the vicarage. But the great event of the day had to be told before anyone was allowed to dress. Between four and five o'clock, just as the magistrates were going to leave the bench, Sam Brattle had walked into Court.
"And your money is safe?" said his wife.
"Yes, my money is safe; but, I declare, I think more of Sam's truth. He was there, as it seemed, all of a sudden. The police had learned nothing of him. He just walked into the court, and we heard his voice. 'They tell me I'm wanted,' he said; and so he gave himself up."
"And what was done?" asked his wife.
"It was too late to do anything; so they allowed a remand for another week, and Sam was walked off to prison."