follow the dinner, sweet Sir Francis," Madame Bonaventure cried,
advancing towards him; "and as you have a principal part in it, I can by
no means spare you."

"No one can spare you, sweet Sir Francis," several voices chimed in,
derisively. "You must remain with us a little longer."

"But I will not stay. I will not be detained. There is some conspiracy
a-foot against me. I will indict you all for it, if you hinder me in
going forth," the knight vociferated, in accents of mingled rage and
terror. "Stop me at your peril, thou saucy Gascon knave."

"_Cornes du diable_!--no more a knave than yourself, _gros usurier_!"
Cyprien cried.

"_Laissez-lui,_ Cyprien," Madame Bonaventure interposed;--"the
courteous knight will yield to my entreaties, and stay of his own free
will."

"I have business that calls me hence. I must go," Sir Francis said,
endeavouring to push by them.

"Let the door be closed," an authoritative voice cried from the head of
the table.

The order was instantly obeyed. Two serving-men stationed themselves
before the place of exit, and Sir Francis found himself a prisoner.

The roof rang with the laughter and gibes of the guests.