At sight of him advancing, the throng fell back and gave us
passage in a sudden lull which reached even to where Nat Fiennes
struggled in the grasp of a dozen longshoremen who were hailing him
to the quay's edge, to fling him over. He broke loose, and before
they could seize him again came staggering back, panting and
dishevelled.
"Prosper!" he cried, catching sight of me, and grinning delightedly
all over his muddied face. "I knew you would come! And your father,
too? Splendid, lad, splendid?"
"Ye men of Falmouth"--the woman by the lamp-post lifted her voice
more shrilly--"what shall I testify of the hardness of your hearts?
Shall I testify that your Mayor sending his crier round, has
threatened to whip us through Falmouth streets at the cart-tail?
Shall I testify--"
But here my father lifted a hand. "Gently, madam; gently, I am not
defending his Worship if he issued any such proclamation; but 'tis an
ancient punishment for scolds, and I advise you to lend him no colour
of excuse."
"And who may _you_ be, sir?" she demanded, looking down, angry, but
checked in spite of herself by my father's air of authority.
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