But Mr. Whitworth was a zealous young barrister, burning for distinction. He stuck to his case, and cross-examined Mercy Vint with severity; indeed, with asperity. _Whitworth._ What are you to receive for this evidence? _Mercy._ Anan. _Whitworth._ Oh, you know what I mean. Are you not to be paid for telling us this romance? _Mercy._ Hay, sir, I ask nought for telling of the truth. _Whitworth._ You were in the prisoner's company yesterday. _Mercy._ Yes, sir, I did visit her in the gaol last night. _Whitworth._ And there concerted this ingenious defense. _Mercy._ Well, sir, for that matter, I told her that her man was alive, and I did offer to be her witness. _Whitworth._ For nought. _Mercy._ For no money or reward, if 'tis that you mean. Why, 'tis a joy beyond money, to clear an innocent body, and save her life; and that satisfaction is mine this day. _Whitworth_ (sarcastically). These are very fine sentiments for a person in your condition. Confess that Mrs. Gaunt primed you with all that. _Mercy._ Nay, sir, I left home in that mind; else I had not come at all. Bethink you; 'tis a long journey for one in my way of life; and this dear child on my arm all the way. Mrs. Gaunt sat boiling with indignation. But Mercy's good temper and meekness parried the attack that time. Mr. Whitworth changed his line. _Whitworth._ You ask the jury to believe that Griffith Gaunt, Esquire, a gentleman, and a man of spirit and honor, is alive, yet skulks and sends you hither, when by showing his face in this court he could clear his wife without a single word spoken? _Mercy._ Yes, sir, I do hope to be believed; for I speak the naked truth. But, with due respect to you, Mr. Gaunt did not send me hither against my will. I could not bide in Lancashire and let an innocent woman be murdered in Cumberland. _Whitworth._ Murdered, quotha. That is a good jest. I'd have you to know we punish murders here, not do them. _Mercy._ I am glad to hear that, sir, on the lady's account. _Whitworth._ Come, come. You pretend you discovered this Griffith Gaunt alive, by means of an advertisement. If so, produce the advertisement. Mercy Vint colored, and cast a swift uneasy glance at Mrs. Gaunt. Rapid as it was, the keen eye of the counsel caught it. "Nay, do not look to the culprit for orders," said he. "Produce it, or confess the truth. Come, you never advertised for him." "Sir, I did advertise for him." "Then produce the advertisement." "Sir, I will not," said Mercy, calmly. "Then I shall move the court to commit you." "For what offense, if you please?" "For perjury, and contempt of court." "I am guiltless of either, God knows. But I will not show the advertisement." _The Judge._ "This is very extraordinary. Perhaps you have it not about you."