"Bethink you. 'Tis a question that must have been often put in your hearing."
"Begging your pardon, it was never put at all; nor do I see—"
"What, not at the inquest?"
"No."
"That is very strange. What, so many wise heads have bent over this riddle, and not one to ask how was yon pedler shod!"
"Madam," said Sir George, "our minds were fixed upon the fate of Gaunt. Many did ask how was the pedler armed, but none how was he shod."
"Hath he been seen since?"
"Not he; and that hath an ugly look; for the constables are out after him with hue and cry; but he is not to be found."
"Then," said Mercy, "I must e'en answer my own question. I do know how that pedler was shod. With hobnailed shoes."
Sir George bounded from his chair. One great ray of daylight broke in upon him.