"Ah!" said Mercy, "if it be no worse than that, there's little harm. But why did thy namesake start so at sight of thy picture?"
"My namesake!" cried Griffith, all aghast.
"Ay, he that brought thee that love-token; Thomas Leicester. Nay, for very shame, feign not ignorance of him; why, he hath thy very mole on his temple, and knew thy picture in a moment. He is thy half-brother, is he not?"
"I am a ruined man," cried Griffith; and sank into a chair without power of motion.
"God help me, what is all this?" cried Mercy. "Oh, Thomas, Thomas, I could forgive thee ought but deceit: for both our sakes speak out, and tell me the worst; no harm shall come near thee while I live."
"How can I tell thee? I am an unfortunate man. The world will call me a villain; yet I am not a villain at heart. But who will believe me? I have broken the law. Thee I could trust, but not thy folk; they never loved me. Mercy, for pity's sake, when was that Thomas Leicester here?"
"Four days ago."
"Which way went he?"
"I hear he told Paul he was going to Cumberland."
"If he gets there before me, I shall rot in gaol."