again.--But hark ye, my Cornish comrade, you have brought a Cornish flaw
of wind with you hither, a hurricanoe as they call it in the Indies.
Make yourself scarce--depart--vanish--or we'll have you summoned before
the Mayor of Halgaver, and that before Dudman and Ramhead meet." [Two
headlands on the Cornish coast. The expressions are proverbial.]

"Away, base groom!" said Tressilian.--"And you, madam, fare you
well--what life lingers in your father's bosom will leave him at the
news I have to tell."

He departed, the lady saying faintly as he left the room, "Tressilian,
be not rash--say no scandal of me."

"Here is proper gear," said Foster. "I pray you go to your chamber, my
lady, and let us consider how this is to be answered--nay, tarry not."

"I move not at your command, sir," answered the lady.

"Nay, but you must, fair lady," replied Foster; "excuse my freedom, but,
by blood and nails, this is no time to strain courtesies--you MUST go to
your chamber.--Mike, follow that meddling coxcomb, and, as you desire
to thrive, see him safely clear of the premises, while I bring this
headstrong lady to reason. Draw thy tool, man, and after him."

"I'll follow him," said Michael Lambourne, "and see him fairly out
of Flanders; but for hurting a man I have drunk my morning's draught
withal, 'tis clean against my conscience." So saying, he left the
apartment.

Tressilian, meanwhile, with hasty steps, pursued the first path which