The trial began again: and the court was crowded to suffocation. All eyes were bent on the prisoner. She rose, calm and quiet, and begged leave to say a few words to the court. Mr. Whitworth objected to that. She had concluded her address yesterday, and called a witness. _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? _Mercy._ Madam, I do. _Prisoner._ Was he at your place in October last? _Mercy._ Yes, madam, on the thirteenth of October. On that day he left for Cumberland. _Prisoner._ On foot, or on horseback? _Mercy._ On horseback. _Prisoner._ With boots on, or shoes? _Mercy._ He had a pair of new boots on. _Prisoner._ Do you know Thomas Leicester? _Mercy._ A pedlar called at our house on the eleventh of October, and he said his name was Thomas Leicester. _Prisoner._ How was he shod? _Mercy._ In hobnailed shoes. _Prisoner._ Which way went he on leaving you? _Mercy._ Madam, he went northwards; I know no more for certain. _Prisoner._ When did you see Mr. Gaunt last? _Mercy._ Four days ago. _The Judge._ What is that? you saw him alive four days ago? _Mercy._ Ay, my lord; the last Wednesday that ever was.