"Mercy on us!" she cried, suddenly catching sight of the motionless figure below her.  "John!  John!  Old John!  Come here!  Here is one sick or hurt! pray heaven he be not dead," she concluded in a lower voice, as she stooped over the insensible man, and listened for sound of breath.  "Sir! sir! rouse yourself," and she shook the helpless man gently by the shoulder.  "Poor creature, this is no beggar, I warrant. He has the face of a gentleman, and his clothes were fine enough not so long ago.  John, I say!" she called again.  "'Tis just to vex me the old fool feigns himself to be deaf.  Sir, I pray you rouse; can you make shift to stand, for here is shelter close by, if you can but walk a step or two.  'Tis more than like he is one of those poor gentleman in trouble with this new government, he has the very air of a hunted man.  I cannot leave him here to freeze," she muttered.  "Well, if John is too deaf or too cross to help, I must e'en manage the business myself."  And without more ado she lifted the helpless man by the shoulders, and propped him up against the gate-post, and fell to rubbing his hands.  He opened his eyes, and gazed dully at her.  "Can you stand, and let me help you into the house?" she repeated.