Prisoner. But I have not examined a witness yet.
The Judge. You come somewhat out of time, madam; but, if you will be brief, we will hear you.
Prisoner. I thank you, my lord. It was only to withdraw an error. The cry for help that was heard by the side of Hernshaw Mere, I said, yesterday, that cry was uttered by Thomas Leicester. Well, I find I was mistaken; the cry for help was uttered by my husband, by that Griffith Gaunt I am accused of assassinating.
This extraordinary admission caused a great sensation in court. The judge looked grave and sad; and Sergeant Wiltshire, who came into court just then, whispered his junior, "She has put the rope round her own neck. The jury would never have believed our witness."
The Prisoner. I will only add that a person came into the town last night, who knows a great deal more about this mysterious business than I do. I purpose, therefore, to alter the plan of my defense; and, to save your time, my lord, who have dealt so courteously with me, I shall call but a single witness.
Ere the astonishment caused by this sudden collapse of the defense was in any degree abated, she called "Mercy Vint."
There was the usual stir and struggle; and then the calm self-possessed face and figure of a comely young woman confronted the court. She was sworn; and examined by the prisoner after this fashion.
"Where do you live?"
"At the 'Packhorse,' near Allerton, in Lancashire."
Prisoner. Do you know Mr. Griffith Gaunt?