"Everything smells sweet in its right place. I'm going home."

"I thought thou wert there all along, being already half-seas over,"
said Cary.

"Ay, right Upsee-Dutch; and that's more than thou ever wilt be, thou
'long-shore stay-at-home. Why wast making sheep's eyes at Mistress
Salterne here, while my pretty little chuck of Burrough there was
playing at shove-groat with Spanish doubloons?"

"Go to the devil, sirrah!" said Cary. Neptune had touched on a sore
subject; and more cheeks than Amyas Leigh's reddened at the hint.

"Amen, if Heaven so please!" and on rolled the monarch of the seas; and
so the pageant ended.

The moment Amyas had an opportunity, he asked his brother Frank,
somewhat peevishly, where Rose Salterne was.

"What! the mayor's daughter? With her uncle by Kilkhampton, I believe."

Now cunning Master Frank, whose daily wish was to "seek peace and ensue
it," told Amyas this, because he must needs speak the truth: but he was
purposed at the same time to speak as little truth as he could, for fear
of accidents; and, therefore, omitted to tell his brother how that he,
two days before, had entreated Rose Salterne herself to appear as the
nymph of Torridge; which honor she, who had no objection either to
exhibit her pretty face, to recite pretty poetry, or to be trained
thereto by the cynosure of North Devon, would have assented willingly,