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Finette's master resembled Polyphemus. He roared with rage when he saw his slaves about to escape him. He ran hesitatingly along the shore; he flung huge masses of rock after the vessel, which happily fell by the side of it and only made great black holes in the water; and, finally, mad with anger, he plunged head foremost into the sea and began to swim after the ship with frightful speed.
Finette's hostess had scarcely reached the village when she hastened to the house of the steward. He was an important personage, who had more than once made her tremble when she had driven her cow into her neighbor's pasture by mistake.
"No," he said; "I believe I have I think I'd rather not." "I will detain you but a moment." Hoffland's glance plunged itself into the interior of Madam Finette's emporium; and the consequence was that the young gentleman retreated three steps.
Quick, saddle my dun mare, and let my knights and squires prepare to attend me." It was with this brilliant train that the baron alighted at the door of the golden cottage. He begged Finette's pardon, held the stirrup for her, and seated her behind him on his own horse, neither more nor less than a duchess in person. Through respect, he did not speak a single word to her on the way.
"I do not; but I see precious few poor about now: they all seem to be rejoicing, without needing any assistance therein from us. Look at that fine chariot." "At Madam Finette's door?" "Yes." "I think I recognise the driver Tom, from Mrs. Wimple's," said Mowbray calmly. "Mrs. Wimple who is she?"
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