"Ay, ay! It's no matter," said Lawrence, gathering up his huge, ungainly form from the floor; "but I have had your betters, Master Michael Lambourne, under the little turn of my forefinger and thumb, and I shall have thee, before all's done, under my hatches. The impudence of thy brow will not always save thy shin-bones from iron, and thy foul, thirsty gullet from a hempen cord." The words were no sooner out of his mouth, when Lambourne again made at him.
"Nay, go not to it again," said the sewer, "or I will call for him shall tame you both, and that is Master Varney--Sir Richard, I mean. He is stirring, I promise you; I saw him cross the court just now."
"Didst thou, by G--!" said Lambourne, seizing on the basin and ewer which stood in the apartment. "Nay, then, element, do thy work. I thought I had enough of thee last night, when I floated about for Orion, like a cork on a fermenting cask of ale."
So saying, he fell to work to cleanse from his face and hands the signs of the fray, and get his apparel into some order.
"What hast thou done to him?" said the sewer, speaking aside to the jailer; "his face is fearfully swelled."
"It is but the imprint of the key of my cabinet--too good a mark for his gallows-face. No man shall abuse or insult my prisoners; they are my jewels, and I lock them in safe casket accordingly.--And so, mistress, leave off your wailing.--Why! why, surely, there was a woman here!"
"I think you are all mad this morning," said the
