I must go," Sir Francis said, endeavouring to push by them.
"Let the door be closed," an authoritative voice cried from the head of the table.
The order was instantly obeyed.

Two serving-men stationed themselves before the place of exit, and Sir Francis found himself a prisoner.
The roof rang with the laughter and gibes of the guests.
"This is a frolic, gentleman, I perceive.

You are resolved to make me your sport--ha! ha!" Sir Francis said, trying to disguise his uneasiness under an appearance of levity--"But you will not carry the jest too far.
You will not maltreat me.

My partner, Sir Giles Mompesson, will be here anon, and will requite any outrage committed upon me." "Sir Giles is impatiently expected by us," a spruce coxcomb near him replied.

"Madame Bonaventure had prepared us for his coming.