in the Cherry room would see us. So, after the same formalities of
cleansing ourselves as the night afore, upstairs we go at the heels of a
drawer, carrying a roast pig, which to our senses was more delightful
than any bunch of flowers.

With a gesture of his hands, after saluting us with great dignity, Don
Sanchez bade us take our places at the table and with never a word of
question as to our decision; but that was scarce necessary, for it
needed no subtle observation to perceive that we would accept any
conditions to get our share of that roast pig. This supper differed not
greatly from the former, save that our Moll was taken with a kind of
tickling at the throat which presently attracted our notice.

"What ails you, Molly, my dear?" asks Jack. "Has a bit of crackling gone
down the wrong way?"

She put it off as if she would have us take no notice of it, but it grew
worse and worse towards the end of the meal, and became a most horrid,
tearing cough, which she did so natural as to deceive us all and put us
in great concern, and especially Don Sanchez, who declared she must have
taken a cold by being exposed all day to the damp weather.

"If I have," says she, very prettily, after wiping the tears from her
eyes upon another fit, "'tis surely a most ungrateful return for the
kindness with which you sheltered me last night, Señor."

"I shall take better care to shelter you in the future, my poor child,"
replies the Don, ringing the bell. Then, the maid coming, he bids her
warm a bed and prepare a hot posset against Moll was tucked up in the
blankets. "And," says he, turning to Moll, "you shall not rise till