t quite aside, and prayed long and fervently. Towards morning she
fell asleep from exhaustion.

When she awoke, Mrs. Houseman was sitting by her bedside, looking at
her, and crying.

They were soon clasped in each other's arms, condoling.

But presently Houseman came, and took his wife away rather angrily.

Mrs. Gaunt was prevailed on to eat a little toast and drink a glass of
wine, and then she sat waiting her dreadful summons.

She waited and waited, until she became impatient to face her danger.

But there were two petty larcenies on before her. She had to wait.

At last, about noon, came a message to say that the grand jury had found
a true bill against her.

"Then may God forgive them!" said she.

Soon afterwards she was informed her time drew very near.

She made her toilet carefully, and passed with her attendant into a
small room under the court.

Here she had to endure another chilling wait, and in a sombre room.

Presently she heard a voice above her cry out, "The King _versus_
Catharine Gaunt."

Then she was beckoned to.

She mounted some steps, badly lighted, and found herself in the glare of
day, and greedy eyes, in the felon's dock.

In a matter entirely strange, we seldom know beforehand what we can do,
and how we shall carry ourselves. Mrs. Gaunt no sooner set her foot in
that dock, and saw the awful front of Justice face to face, than her
tremors abated, and all her powers awoke, and she thrilled with love of
life, and bristled with all those fine arts of defence that Nature lends
to superior women.

She entered on that defence before she spoke a word; for she attacked
the prejudices of the court, by deportment.

She courtesied reverently to the Judge, and contrived to make her
reverence seem a willing homage, unmixed with fear.

She cast her eyes round and saw the court thronged with ladies and
gentlemen she knew. In a moment she read in their eyes that only two or
three were on her side. She bowed to those only; and they returned her
courtesy. This gave an impression (a false one) that the gentry
sympathized with her.

After a little murmur of functionaries, the Clerk of Arraigns turned to
the prisoner, and said, in a loud voice, "Catharine Gaunt, hold up thy
hand."

She held up her hand, and he recited the indictment, which charged that,
not having the fear of God before her eyes, but being moved by the
instigation of the Devil, she had on the fifteenth of October, in the
te