this mysterious circumstance made a great talk in the village, and in the kitchen of hernshaw castle; but not in the drawing-room: for mrs. gaunt instantly closed her door to visitors, and let it be known that it was her intention to retire to a convent; and, in the meantime, she desired not to be disturbed.
ryder made one or two attempts to draw her out upon the subject, but was sternly checked.
pale, gloomy, and silent, the mistress of hernshaw castle moved about the place like the ghost of her former self. she never mentioned griffith; forbade his name to be uttered in her hearing; and, strange to say, gave ryder strict orders not to tell any one what she had heard from thomas leicester.
"this last insult is known but to you and me. if it ever gets abroad, you leave my service that very hour."
this injunction set ryder thinking. however, she obeyed it to the letter. her place was getting better and better; and she was a woman accustomed to keep secrets.
a pressing letter came from mr. atkins.
mrs. gaunt replied that her husband had come to hernshaw, but had left again; and the period of his ultimate return was now more uncertain than ever.
on this mr. atkins came down to hernshaw castle. but mrs. gaunt would not see him. he retired very angry; and renewed his advertisements, but in a more explicit form. he now published that griffith gaunt, of hernshaw and bolton, was executor and residuary legatee to the late griffith gaunt, of coggleswade: and requested him to apply directly to james atkins, solicitor, of gray's inn, london.
in due course this advertisement was read by the servants at hernshaw; and shown, by ryder, to mrs. gaunt.
she made no comment whatever; and contrived to render her pale face impenetrable.
ryder became as silent and thoughtful as herself, and often sat bending her black judicial brows.
by-and-by dark mysterious words began to be thrown out in hernshaw village.
"he will never come back at all."
"he will never come into that fortune."
"'tis no use advertising for a man that is past reading."
these, and the like equivocal sayings, were followed by a vague buzz, which was traceable to no individual author, but seemed to rise on all sides, like a dark mist, and envelope that unhappy house.
and that dark mist of rumor soon condensed itself into a palpable and terrible whisper, "griffith gaunt hath met with foul play."
no one of the servants told mrs. gaunt this horrid rumor.
but the women used to look at her, and after her, with strange eyes.
she noticed this, and felt, somehow, that her people were falling away from her. it added one drop to her bitter cup. she began to droop into a sort of calm despondent lethargy.
then came fresh trouble to rouse her.
two of the county magistrates called on her in their official capacity, and, with perfect politeness, but a very grave air, requested her to inform them of all the circumstances attending her husband's disappearance.
she replied, coldly and curtly, that she knew very little about it. her husband had left in the middle of the night.
"he came to stay?"
"i believe so."
"came on horseback?"
"yes."
"did he go away on horseback?"
"no: for the horse is now in my stable."
"is it true there was a quarrel between you and him that evening?"
"gentlemen," said mrs. gaunt, drawing herself back, haughtily, "did you come here to gratify your curiosity?"
"no, madam," said the elder of the two; "but to discharge a very serious and painful duty, in which i earnestly request you, and even advise you, to aid us. was there a quarrel?"
"there was—a mortal quarrel."
the gentlemen exchanged glances and the elder made a note.
"may we ask the subject of that quarrel?"
mrs. gaunt declined, positively, to enter into a matter so delicate.
a note was taken of this refusal.
"are you aware, madam, that your husband's voice was heard calling for help, and that a pistol-shot was fired?"
mrs. gaunt trembled visibly.
"i heard the pistol shot," said she, "but not the voice distinctly. oh, i hope it was not his voice ryder heard."
"ryder, who is he?"
"ryder is my lady's-maid: her bedroom is on that side the house."
"can we see mrs. ryder?"
"certainly," said mrs. gaunt, and rose and rang the bell.
mrs. ryder answered the bell, in person, very promptly; for she was listening at the door.
being questioned, she told the magistrates what she had heard down by the mere and said she was sure it was her master's voice that cried "help!" and "murder!" and with this she began to cry.
mrs. gaunt trembled and turned pale.
the magistrates confined their questions to ryder.
they elicited, however, very little more from her. she saw the drift of their questions, and had an impulse to defend her mistress there present. behind her back it would have been other-wise.
that resolution once taken, two children might as well have tried to extract evidence from her as two justices of the peace.
and then mrs. gaunt's pale face and noble features touched them. the case was mysterious, but no more; and they departed little the wiser and with some apologies for the trouble they had given her.
the next week down came mr. atkins out of all patience, and determined to find griffith gaunt, or else obtain some proof of his decease.
he obtained two interviews with ryder, and bribed her to tell him all she knew. he prosecuted other inquiries with more method than had hitherto been used, and elicited an important fact, viz., that griffith gaunt had been seen walking in a certain direction at one o'clock in the morning, followed at a short distance by a tall man with a knapsack, or the like, on his back.
the person who gave this tardy information was the wife of a certain farmer's man, who wired hares upon the sly. the man himself, being assured that, in a case so serious as this, no particular inquiries should be made how he came to be out so late, confirmed what his wife had let out, and added that both men had taken the way that would lead them to the bridge, meaning the bridge over the mere. more than that he could not say, for he had met them, and was full half a mile from the mere, before those men could have reached it.
following up this clue, mr. atkins learned so many ugly things, that he went to the bench on justicing day, and demanded a full and searching inquiry on the premises.
sir george neville, after in vain opposing this, rode off straight from the bench to hernshaw, and in feeling terms conveyed the bad news to mrs. gaunt; and then, with the utmost delicacy, let her know that some suspicion rested upon herself, which she would do well to meet with the bold front of innocence.
"what suspicion, pray?" said mrs. gaunt, haughtily.
sir george shrugged his shoulders, and replied, "that you have done gaunt the honor—to put him out of the way."
mrs. gaunt took this very differently from what sir george expected.
"what!" she cried, "are they so sure he is dead? murdered!"
and with this, she went into a passion of grief and remorse.
even sir george was puzzled, as well as affected, by her convulsive agitation.
