As she looked, she started and shrank away, holding up her hands to shut out what she saw.
'There!' said Genefer, 'it be a brave and improving sight. I reckon it do as much good to the soul as a lump of sugar with a drop of peppermint on it does to the stomick when out of sorts. It warms and strengthens and gives tone. He be a young man. Well, the Lord, I reckon, has got a work in store for he, as He has called him out of the deep, and has given him the life back as were trembling at the door of his heart to leave. As for the rest, they be cut off in their sins. Take him to Welltown.'
'Stay, stay!' exclaimed Mirelle, interposing with vehemence. 'He shall not—he shall never go thither. Never, so long as I am mistress there.'
'Is he to lie here on the snow?' asked Genefer. 'You will have to give an account of it if he do, and die in consequence.'
'He shall not be taken to Welltown.'
The men looked at each other.
'Where be we to carry un to, then?' asked Pentecost.
'If he die, I'm danged if it be fair if you deny us the ten guineas. He has life in him now, and if he lose it, it will be your fault, young lady. We've done our parts and earned our money.'
'Take him where you will, but not to Welltown.'
'There is no other house near.'