ed her like a demon, and
watched to do her a mischief by hook or by crook.

* * * * *

Griffith's appearance and manner caused Mrs. Gaunt very serious anxiety.
His clothes hung loose on his wasting frame; his face was of one uniform
sallow tint, like a maniac's; and he sat silent for hours beside his
wife, eying her askant from time to time like a surly mastiff guarding
some treasure.

She divined what was passing in his mind, and tried to soothe him; but
almost in vain. He was sometimes softened for the moment; but _haeret
lateri lethalis arundo_; he still hovered about, watching her and
tormenting himself; gnawed mad by three vultures of the mind,--doubt,
jealousy, and suspense.

* * * * *

Mrs. Gaunt wrote letters to Father Leonard: hitherto she had only sent
him short messages.

Betty Gough carried these letters, and brought the answers.

Griffith, thanks to the hint Ryder had given him, suspected this, and
waylaid the old woman, and roughly demanded to see the letter she was
carrying. She stoutly protested she had none. He seized her, turned her
pockets inside out, and found a bunch of keys; item, a printed dialogue
between Peter and Herod, omitted in the canonical books, but described
by the modern discoverer as an infallible charm for the toothache; item,
a brass thimble; item, half a nutmeg.

"Curse your cunning," said he; and went off muttering.

The old woman tottered trembling to Mrs. Gaunt, related this outrage
with an air of injured innocence, then removed her cap, undid her hair,
and took out a letter from Leonard.

"This must end, and shall," said Mrs. Gaunt, firmly; "else it will drive
him mad and me too."

* * * * *

Bolton fair-day came. It was a great fair, and had attractions for all
classes. There were cattle and horses of all kinds for sale, and also
shows, games, wrestling, and dancing till daybreak.

All the servants had a prescriptive right to go to this fair; and
Griffith himself had never missed one. He told Kate over-night he would
go, if it were not for leaving her alone.

The words were kinder than their meaning; but Mrs. Gaunt had the tact,
or the candor, to take them in their best sense. "And I would go with
you, my dear," said she; "but I should only be a drag. Never heed me;
give yourself a day's pleasure, for indeed you need it. I am in care
about you: you are so dull of late.