"Then I will go now; recollect what her anxiety and impatience must be. I will travel post to-night, and be there by to-morrow morning." "Go, dear Mary, go, and God bless you! hasten to my poor mother, and tell her that I am quite--yes--quite happy and resigned. Go now, quickly." Mary left the cell, and Joey, whose heart was breaking at the moment that he said he was happy and resigned, for he was thinking of his eternal separation from Emma, as soon as he was alone, threw himself on the bed, and gave full vent to those feelings of bitter anguish which he could no longer repress. CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT. IN WHICH EVERYBODY APPEARS TO BE ON THE MOVE EXCEPT OUR HERO. Mary set off with post-horses and arrived at the Hall before daylight. She remained in her own room until the post came in, when her first object was to secure the newspapers before the butler had opened them, stating that her mistress was awake, and requested to see them. She took the same precaution when the other papers came in late in the day, so that Mr Austin should not read the account of the trial; this was the more easy to accomplish, as he seldom looked at a newspaper. As soon as the usual hour had arrived, Mary presented herself to her mistress, and communicated the melancholy result of the trial. Mrs Austin desired Mary to say to the servants that she was going to remain with a lady, a friend of hers, some miles off, who was dangerously ill; and should in all probability, not return that night, or even the next, if her friend was not better; and, her preparations for the journey being completed, she set off with Mary a little before dark on her way to Exeter. But, if Mr Austin did not look at the newspapers, others did, and amongst the latter was Major McShane, who, having returned from his tour, was sitting with O'Donahue and the two ladies in the library of his own house when the post came in. The major had hardly looked at the newspapers, when the name of Rushbrook caught his eye; he turned to it, read a portion, and gave a loud whistle of surprise. "What's the matter, my dear?" asked Mrs McShane. "Murder's the matter, my jewel," returned the major; "but don't interrupt me just now, for I'm breathless with confusion." McShane read the whole account of the trial, and the verdict, and then without saying a word, put it into the bands of O'Donahue. As soon as O'Donahue had finished it, McShane beckoned him out of the room.