"Do not despair on that score," said Neville. "I believe our good angel will produce him."
Three days only before the assizes, came the long-expected letter from Mercy Vint. Sir George tore it open, but bitter was his disappointment. The letter merely said that Griffith had not appeared in answer to her advertisements, and she was sore grieved and perplexed.
There were two postscripts, each on a little piece of paper.
First postscript, in a tremulous hand, "Pray."
Second postscript, in a firm hand, "Drain that water."
Houseman shrugged his shoulders impatiently, "Drain the mere? Let the Crown do that. We should but fish up more trouble. And prayer quo' she! 'Tis not prayers we want, but evidence."
He sent his clerk off to travel post night and day, and subpoena Mercy, and bring her back with him to the trial. She was to have every comfort on the road, and be treated like a duchess.
The evening before the assizes, Mrs. Gaunt's apartments were Mr. Houseman's head-quarters, and messages were coming and going all day, on matters connected with the defense.
Just at sunset, up rattled a post-chaise, and the clerk got out and came haggard and bloodshot before his employer.
"The witness has disappeared, sir. Left home last Tuesday, with her child, and has never been seen nor heard of since."