‘Ah!—Do you know, missis, how far it be?’
She shook her head.
‘From London, I s’pose?’
She did not answer, and he continued:—
‘Well, it be seven miles, missis, to Seachester, and sure enough you seem dead beat. Telee what, missis! I’ll give you a lift along.’
Weary and overpowered, she accepted his offer, and with his assistance she climbed into they cart. They jogged along slowly, for the roads were heavy and clogged with mud. From time to time the man looked at her, surveying her quietly from head to foot, noting with no little surprise her delicate form, her small hands, her beautiful face. More than once he seemed about to question her, but refrained. To avoid meeting his inquisitive gaze, she closed her eyes, and presently, through sheer fatigue, she fell into a heavy doze.
She was wakened by a hoarse voice in her ear:—
‘Now, then, missis, here we be!’
She stirred, opened her eyes, and saw that they were standing near to a very small village, not far from a great water, the river or the sea. Shivering, and dazed, she alighted from the cart, and taking out a small purse offered the man a piece of silver.
‘Noa, keep your money, missis,’ he said, with a stern shake of his head. ‘Look, now, this be Seachester, and up there be the house where you’re a-going.’