Thus was the business concluded, and I could not find words, I told him, to express the gratitude which I felt for so much goodness towards one who was a stranger to him. I begged him to suffer me to repay at least the charges to which he had been put at the inns and the stabling since he took me into his own care and protection. But he would take nothing. 'Money,' he said, 'as payment for such services as he had been enabled to render would be abhorrent to his nature. Should good deeds be bought? Was it seemly that a merchant of credit should sell an act of common Christian charity?' 'What!' he asked, 'are we to see a poor creature in danger of being imprisoned if she is recognised--and of being carried off against her will by a husband whom she loathes, if he finds her--are we to see such a woman and not be instantly fired by every generous emotion of compassion and indignation to help that woman at the mere cost of a few days' service and a few guineas spent?' I was greatly moved--even to tears--at these words, and at all this generosity, and I told him that I could not sufficiently thank him for all he had done, and that he should have my prayers always. 'I hope I may, Madam,' he said, smiling strangely. 'When the ship hath sailed you will remember, perhaps, the fate of Susan Blake, and, whatever may be your present discomfort on board a rolling ship, say to yourself that this is better than to die in a noisome prison. You will also understand that you have fallen into the hands of a respectable merchant, who is much more lenient than Judge Jeffreys, and will not consent to the wasting of good commercial stuff in jails and on gibbets.' 'Nay, Sir,' I said, 'what doth all this mean?' 'Nothing, Madam; nothing. I was only anxious that you should say to yourself, "Thus and thus have I been saved from a jail."' Such was Mr. Penne's humanity! 'Understand it! Oh! dear Sir, I repeat that my words are not strong enough to express my gratitude.' 'Now, Madam, no doubt your gratitude runs high. Whether to-morrow----' 'Can I ever forget? To-morrow? To-morrow? Surely, Sir----' 'Well, Madam, we will wait until to-morrow. Meantime, lie snug and still all day, and in the afternoon I will come for you. Two hundred and forty-five pounds--'tis not a great sum, but a good day's work--a good day's work, added to the satisfaction of helping a most unfortunate young gentlewoman--most unfortunate.' What did the good man mean by still talking of the morrow? At half-past twelve the good woman of the house brought me a plate of meat and some bread. 'So,' she said--her face was red, and I think she had been drinking--'he hath determined to put you on board with the rest, I hear.' 'Hush! If you have heard, say nothing.'