He thanked her heartily. "Ay, Dame," said he, "you had always an open hand, married or single. My heart is heavy at leaving you. But I miss the Squire's kindly face too. Hernshaw is not what it used to be."
Mrs. Gaunt turned her head aside, and the man could see his words had made her cry.
"My good Thomas," said she, at last, "you are going to travel the country: you might fall in with him."
"I might," said Leicester, incredulously.
"God grant you may: and, if ever you should, think of your poor mistress, and give him—this." She put her finger into her bosom and drew out a bullet wrapped in silver paper. "You will never lose this," said she. "I value it more than gold or silver. Oh, if ever you should see him, think of me and my daughter, and just put it in his hand without a word."
As he went out of the room Ryder intercepted him, and said, "Mayhap you will fall in with our master: if ever you do, tell him he is under a mistake, and the sooner he comes home the better." Tom Leicester departed: and, for days and weeks, nothing occurred to break the sorrowful monotony of the place.
But the mourner had written to her old friend and confessor Francis: and, after some delay, involuntary on his part, he came to see her.
They were often closeted together, and spoke so low that Ryder could not catch a word.
Francis also paid several visits to Leonard; and the final result of these visits was that the latter left England.
Francis remained at Hernshaw as long as he could; and it was Mrs. Gaunt's hourly prayer that Griffith might return while Francis was with her.