She recoiled with a violent shudder at first; and hid her face with one
hand. Then she gradually stole a horror-stricken side-glance.
She had not looked at it a moment, when she uttered a loud cry, and
pointed at its feet with quivering hand.
"THE SHOES! THE SHOES!--IT IS NOT MY GRIFFITH."
With this she fell into violent hysterics, and was carried out of the
room at Houseman's earnest entreaty.
As soon as she was gone, Mr. Houseman, being freed from his fear that
his client would commit herself irretrievably, recovered a show of
composure, and his wits went keenly to work.
"On behalf of the accused," said he, "I admit the suicide of some person
unknown, wearing heavy hobnailed shoes; probably one of the lower order
of people."
This adroit remark produced some little effect, notwithstanding the
strong feeling against the accused.
The coroner inquired if there were any bodily marks by which the remains
could be identified.
"My master had a long black mole on his forehead," suggested Caroline
Ryder.
"'Tis here!" cried a juryman, bending over the remains.
And now they all gathered in great excitement round the _corpus
delicti_; and there, sure enough, was a long black mole.
Then was there a buzz of pity for Griffith Gaunt, followed by a stern
murmur of execration.
"Gentlemen," said the coroner solemnly, "behold in this the finger of
Heaven. The poor gentleman may well have put off his boots, since, it
seems, he left his horse; but he could not take from his forehead his
natal sign; and that, by God's will, hath strangely escaped mutilation,
and revealed a most foul deed. We must now do our duty, gentlemen,
without respect of persons."
A warrant was then issued for the apprehension of Thomas Leicester. And,
that same night, Mrs. Gaunt left Hernshaw in her own chariot between two
constables, and escorted by armed yeomen.
Her proud head was bowed almost to her knees, and her streaming eyes
hidden in her lovely hands. For why? A mob accompanied her for miles,
shouting, "Murderess!--Bloody Papist!--Hast done to death the kindliest
gentleman in Cumberland. We'll all come to see thee hanged.--Fair face
but foul heart!"--and groaning, hissing, and cursing, and indeed only
kept from violence by the escort.
And so they took that poor proud lady and lodged her in Carlisle jail.
She was _enceinte_ into the bargain. By the man she was to be hanged for
murdering.