The Judge now retired for some refreshment, and while he was gone, Sir George Neville dashed up to the Town Hall, four in hand, and rushed in by the magistrate's door, with a pedlar's pack, which he had discovered in the mere, a few yards from the spot where the mutilated body was found.
He learned the prisoner was already acquitted. He left the pack with the sheriff, and begged him to show it to the judge; and went in search of Mrs. Gaunt.
He found her in the gaoler's house. She and Mercy Vint were seated hand in hand. He started at first sight of the latter. There was a universal shaking of hands, and glistening of eyes. And, when this was over, Mrs. Gaunt turned to him, and said, piteously, "She will go back to Lancashire to-morrow; nothing I can say will turn her."
"No, Dame," said Mercy, quietly, "Cumberland is no place for me. My work is done here. Our paths in this world do lie apart. George Neville, persuade her to go home at once, and not trouble about me."
"Indeed, madam," said Sir George, "she speaks wisely: she always does. My carriage is at the door, and the people waiting by thousands in the street to welcome your deliverance."
Mrs. Gaunt drew herself up with fiery and bitter disdain.
"Are they so," said she, grimly. "Then I'll baulk them. I'll steal away in the dead of night. No, miserable populace, that howls and hisses with the strong against the weak, you shall have no part in my triumph; 'tis sacred to my friends. You honoured me with your hootings; you shall not disgrace me with your acclamations. Here I stay till Mercy Vint, my guardian angel, leaves me for ever."
She then requested Sir George to order his horses hack to the inn, and the coachman was to hold himself in readiness to start when the whole town should be asleep.
Meantime a courier was despatched to Hernshaw Castle, to prepare for Mrs. Gaunt's reception.
Mrs. Menteith made a bed up for Mercy Vint, and, at midnight, when the coast was clear, came the parting.