“Don't excite yourself so, mistress. You have been sore tried, but it is over now, and today all the world will know as Maister Ned is proved to be innocent. This here paper is a copy of the confession of the man as did it, and who is, they say, dead by this time. It was taken all right and proper afore a magistrate.” “Innocent!” Mrs. Mulready gasped in a voice scarcely above a whisper. “Did you tell me, Abijah, that my boy, my boy Ned, is innocent?” “I never doubted as he was innocent, ma'am; but now, thank God, all the world will know it. There, ma'am, sit yourself down. Don't look like that. I know as how you must feel, but for mercy sake don't look like that.” Mrs. Mulready did not seem to hear her, did not seem to notice, as she passively permitted herself to be seated in the chair, while Abijah poured out a glass of wine. Her face was pale and rigid, her eyes wide open, her expression one of horror rather than relief. “Innocent! Proved innocent!” she murmured. “What must he think of me--me, his mother!” For some time she sat looking straight before her, taking no notice of the efforts of Abijah to call her attention, and unheeding the glass of wine which she in vain pressed her to drink. “I must go away,” she said at last, rising suddenly. “I must go away at once. Has he gone yet?” “Go away, ma'am! Why, what should you go away for, and where are you going?” “It does not matter; it makes no difference,” Mrs. Mulready said feverishly, “so that I get away. Put some of my things together, Abijah. What are you staring there for? Don't you hear what I say? I must go away directly he has started for the mill.” And with trembling fingers she began to open her drawers and pull out her clothes. “But you can't go away like that, mistress. You can't, indeed,” Abijah said, aghast. “I must go, Abijah. There is nothing else for me to do. Do you think I could see him after treating him as I have done? I should fall dead at his feet for shame.” “But where are you going, ma'am?” Abijah said, thinking it better not to attempt to argue with her in her present state. “I don't know, I don't know. Yes, I do. Do you know whether that cottage you were telling me about where you lived while you were away from here, is to let? That will do nicely, for there I should be away from every one. Get me a box from the lumber room, and tell Harriet to go out and get me a post chaise from the Red Lion as soon as my son has gone to the mill.” “Very well,” Abijah said. “I will do as you want me, 'm, if you will sit down quiet and not excite yourself. You know you have not been out of your room for a year, and if you go a-tiring yourself like this you will never be able to stand the journey. You sit down in the chair and I will do the packing for you. You can tell me what things you will take with you. I will get the box down.”