"Mr. Lennox gave her some money. She told us that her husband beat her; that he had bruised her hand, and that she was quite sure he would come back to murder her. Then Mr. Lennox told her, that if she feared that, to get up and come away; he gave her two sovereigns and told her to go to London. He wrote down his address on a piece of folded paper, and told her if she would either come or write to that address, his mother would befriend her. She asked Heaven to bless us, my lord, and turned away her head, as though she were tired. We walked on, and did not see her again."
And again Hyacinth paused, while those in court seemed to hang upon the words that came from her lips.
"Then, my lord," she continued, "I began to think of what she had said—that it was better to break one's heart at home than to run away from it. All at once the folly and wickedness of what I was about to do appeared to me. I began to cry, and begged of Mr. Lennox to take me home."
"A very common termination to an elopement," observed the judge.
"Mr. Lennox was very kind to me," continued the earnest voice. "When he saw that I really wanted to go home, he took me back to Oakton, and left me in the grounds where we had met so short a time before. My lord, I swear to you most solemnly that this is the whole truth."
"Will you explain to us," inquired the prosecution, "why, knowing all this, you have allowed matters to proceed so far against the accused? Why did you not come forward earlier, and reveal the truth?"
"My lord," she said, still looking at the quiet face of the judge, "I knew nothing of the case until twenty-four hours ago. I started with my grandparents on the Friday morning for the Continent, and have been living at Bergheim since. I knew of the trial only the night before last, and I came hither at once."
"You came alone; and immediately?"
"Yes," she replied. "I have lost everything by so coming. I can never go back among my kindred again. I shall never be forgiven."
There was a brief pause. The foreman of the jury gave a written paper to the usher to be handed to the judge—a paper which intimated that the jury did not think it necessary to go on with the case, feeling convinced, from the evidence of Miss Vaughan, that Mr. Lennox was perfectly innocent of the crime imputed to his charge. The judge read the paper carefully, and then, looking at the witness, said: