And so things went on, and, as generally happens, the man who was losing ground went the very way to lose more. He spoke ill of Griffith behind his back: called him a highwayman, a gentleman, an ungrateful, undermining traitor. But Griffith never mentioned Carrick; and so when he and Mercy were together, her old follower was pleasingly obliterated, and affectionate good humour reigned. Thus Griffith, alias Thomas, became her sunbeam, and Paul her cloud. But he who had disturbed the peace of others, his own turn came. One day he found Mercy crying: he sat clown beside her, and said, kindly, "Why, sweetheart, what is amiss?" "No great matter," said she; and turned her head away, but did not check her tears, for it was new and pleasant to be consoled by Thomas Leicester. "Nay, but tell me, child." "Well, then, Jessie Carrick has been at me; that is all." "The vixen! what did she say?" "Nay, I'm not pleased enow with it to repeat it. She did cast something in my teeth." Griffith pressed her to be more explicit: she declined, with so many blushes, that his curiosity was awakened, and he told Mrs. Vint, with some heat, that Jess Carrick had been making Mercy cry. "Like enow," said Mrs. Vint, coolly. "She'll eat her victuals all one for that, please God." "Else I'll ring the cock-nosed jade's neck, next time she comes here," replied Griffith; "but, dame, I want to know what she can have to say to Mercy to make her cry." Mrs. Vint looked him steadily in the face for some time, and then and there decided to come to an explanation. "Ten to one 'tis about her brother," said she; "you know this Paul is our Mercy's sweetheart." At these simple words Griffith winced, and his countenance changed remarkably. Mrs. Vint observed it, and was all the more resolved to have it out with him. "Her sweetheart!" said Griffith. "Why, I have seen them together a dozen of times, and not a word of courtship." "Oh, the young men don't make many speeches in these parts. They show their hearts by act." "By act? why, I met them coming home from milking t' other evening. Mercy was carrying the pail, brimful; and that oaf sauntered by her side, with his hands in his pockets; was that the act of a lover?"