"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." Here was a terrible blow. They all paled under it; it seriously diminished the chances of an acquittal. But Mrs. Gaunt bore it nobly. She seemed to rise under it. She turned to Sir George Neville with a sweet smile. "The noble heart sees base things noble. No wonder then an artful woman deluded _you._ He has left England with her; and condemned me to the gallows. In cold blood. So be it. I shall defend myself." She then sat down with Mr. Houseman, and went through the written case he had prepared for her: and showed him notes she had taken of full a hundred criminal trials great and small. While they were putting their heads together, Sir George sat in a brown study, and uttered not a word. Presently he got up a little brusquely, and said, "I'm going to Hernshaw." "What, at this time of night? What to do?" "To obey my orders. To drain the mere." "And who could have ordered you to drain my mere?" "Mercy Vint." Sir George uttered this in a very curious way, half ashamed half resolute, and retired before Mrs. Gaunt could vent in speech the surprise and indignation that fired her eye. Houseman implored her not to heed Sir George and his vagaries, but to bend her whole mind on those approved modes of defense with which he had supplied her. Being now alone with her, he no longer concealed his great anxiety. "We have lost an invaluable witness in that woman," said he. "I was mad to think she would come."