"My good lass," said he, "tell me, where am I? for I know not."
Mercy started, and left off singing, then rose and came slowly towards him, with her work in her hand.
Innocent joy at this new symptom of convalescence flushed her comely features, but she spoke low.
"Good sir, at the 'Packhorse,'" said she, smiling. "The 'Packhorse?' and where is that?"
"Nay, in Lancashire, your worship. Why, whence come you that know not the 'Packhorse,' nor yet Allerton township? Come you from Cumberland?"
"No matter whence I come. I'm going on board ship; like my father before me."
"Alas, sir, you are not fit; you have been very ill; and partly distraught."
She stopped: for Griffith turned his face to the wall with a deep groan. It had all rushed over him in a moment.
Mercy stood still, and worked on, but the water gathered in her eyes at that eloquent groan.
By-and-by Griffith turned round again, with a face of anguish, and filmy eyes, and saw her in the same place standing, working, and pitying.
"What, are you there still?" said he, roughly.
"Ay, sir; but I'll go, sooner than be troublesome. Can I fetch you anything?"
"No. Ay, wine; bring me wine to drown it all."
"Pledge me," said he, with a miserable attempt at a smile.
She put the cup to her lips, and sipped a drop or two; but her dove's eyes were looking up at him over the liquor all the time. Griffith soon disposed of the rest; and asked for more.
"Nay," said she, "but I dare not: the doctor hath forbidden excess in drinking."
"Doctor Paul," said she, demurely. "He hath saved your life, sir, I do think."
Here she left him with an excuse. "'Tis milking time, sir: and you shall know that I am our dairymaid. I seldom trouble the inn."
Next day she was on the window-seat, working and beaming. The patient called to her in peevish accents to put his head higher. She laid down her work with a smile, and came and raised his head.
"There, now, that is too high," said he: "how awkward you are."
"I lack experience, sir, but not good will. There, now, is that a little better?"
"Ay, a little. I'm sick of lying here: I want to get up. Dost hear what I say? I--want--to get up."
"And so you shall. As soon as ever you are fit. To-morrow, perhaps. To-day, you must e'en be patient. Patience is a rare medicine."