"
She spoke these last words very firmly. The preacher flung a glance
round and saw he was in a trap.
"Such shameless behaviour--" he began.
"You've got to go back," repeated Sally, nodding her head at him.
"Take my advice and go quiet."
"I can only suppose you to be intoxicated," said he, and swung round
upon the path where Thomasine Oliver stood guard. "Allow me to pass,
Madam, if you please!"
But here the mischief put it into Long Eliza to give his hat a flip
by the brim. It dropped over his nose and rolled away in the grass.
"Oh, what a dear little bald head!" cried Long Eliza; "I declare I
must kiss it or die!" She caught up a handful of hay as he stooped,
and--well, well, Sir! Scandalous, as you say! Not a word beyond
this would any of them tell: but I do believe the whole gang rolled
the poor man in the hay and took a kiss off him--"making sweet hay,"
as 'tis called. 'Twas only known that he paid the bill for his
lodging a little after dawn next morning, took up his bag, and passed
down Fore Street towards the Quay. Maybe a boat was waiting for him
there: at all events, he was never seen again--not on this side of
Tamar.
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