nds concerning them."

The Spaniard bowed stiffly, answered, "To the nearest tavern, senor,"
and then strode away. His baggage was sent thither. He took a boat down
to Appledore that very afternoon, and vanished, none knew whither. A
very courteous note to Lady Grenville, enclosing the jewel which he had
been used to wear round his neck, was the only memorial he left behind
him: except, indeed, the scar on Cary's arm, and poor Rose's broken
heart.

Now county towns are scandalous places at best; and though all parties
tried to keep the duel secret, yet, of course, before noon all Bideford
knew what had happened, and a great deal more; and what was even worse,
Rose, in an agony of terror, had seen Sir Richard Grenville enter her
father's private room, and sit there closeted with him for an hour and
more; and when he went, upstairs came old Salterne, with his stick in
his hand, and after rating her soundly for far worse than a flirt, gave
her (I am sorry to have to say it, but such was the mild fashion of
paternal rule in those times, even over such daughters as Lady Jane
Grey, if Roger Ascham is to be believed) such a beating that her poor
sides were black and blue for many a day; and then putting her on a
pillion behind him, carried her off twenty miles to her old prison at
Stow mill, commanding her aunt to tame down her saucy blood with bread
of affliction and water of affliction. Which commands were willingly
enough fulfilled by the old dame, who had always borne a grudge against
Rose for being rich while she was poor, and pretty while her daughter
was plain; so that between flouts, and sneers, and watchings, and pretty
open hints that she was a disgrace to her family, and no better than she
should be, the poor innocent child watered her couch with her tears for
a fortnight or more, stretching out her hands to the wide Atlantic, and
calling wildly to Don Guzman to return and take her where he would, and
she would live for him and die for him; and perhaps she did not call in
vain.

CHAPTER XIII

HOW THE GOLDEN HIND CAME HOME AGAIN

"The spirits of your fathers
Shall start from every wave;
For the deck it was their field of fame,
And ocean was their grave."

CAMPBELL.

"So you see, my dear Mrs. Hawkins, having the silver, as your own eyes
show you, beside the ores of lead, manganese, and copper, and above all
this gossan (as the Cornish call it), whic