She wrapped the bullet up; put it carefully away; had a good cry; and was herself again.
But all this set her watching Griffith, and reading his face. She had subtle, vague, misgivings; and forbade her mother to mention the pedlar's visit to Griffith yet awhile. Woman-like, she preferred to worm out the truth.
On the evening of his return from Lancaster, as he was smoking his pipe, she quietly tested him. She fixed her eyes on him, and said, "One was here to-day that knows thee, and brought thee this." She then handed him the bullet, and watched his face.
Griffith undid the paper carelessly enough; but, at sight of the bullet, uttered a loud cry, and his eyes seemed ready to start out of his head.
He turned as pale as ashes, and stammered piteously, "What? what? what d'ye mean? In Heaven's name, what is this? How? Who?"
Mercy was surprised, but also much concerned at his distress, and tried to soothe him. She also asked him, piteously, whether she had done wrong to give it him. "God knows," said she, "'tis no business of mine to go and remind thee of her thou hast loved better mayhap than thou lovest me. But to keep it from thee, and she in her grave, oh I had not the heart!"
But Griffith's agitation increased instead of diminishing; and, even while she was trying to soothe him, he rushed wildly out of the room, and into the open air.
Mercy went, in perplexity and distress, and told her mother.
Mrs. Vint, not being blinded by affection, thought the whole thing had a very ugly look, and said as much. She gave it as her opinion that this Kate was alive, and had sent the token herself, to make mischief between man and wife.
"That shall she never," said Mercy, stoutly; but now her suspicions were thoroughly excited, and her happiness disturbed.