'Here be I,' answered a voice from the further end.
'Who? Joyce?'
'Yes, sure.'
'Why, Joyce, what are you doing here? What! lying down? Are you ill?'
'I be broked all to pieces,' she answered; 'I be going to die.' Her voice was hoarse.
'Good heavens, Joyce! how has this occurred?'
He went to the upper end of the cromlech, and knelt by her. Now he was able to see. The girl lay on the cushions of the chaise, and some of the rugs were thrown over her.
'How has this come about, Joyce?'
'I won't tell'y, unless you swears not to let the constable know. I don't want no hurt to come to vaither of this. Vaither were here a minute agone, but I reckon he seed you acoming, and so he sloked away. Hers afeared the constable'll be after'n all along o' doing this.'
'But what has he done to you, child?'