My father's death has to be avenged." "Provoke him not, my good young Sir," interposed an elderly man, next him, in a long furred gown, with hanging sleeves, and a flat cap on his head, who had heard what was now passing.

"You know not the mischief he may do you." "I laugh at his malice, and defy him," Jocelyn cried--"he shall not sit one moment longer beside me.

Out, knave! out!" he added, seizing Sir Francis by the wing of his doublet, and forcibly thrusting him from his seat.

"You are not fit company for honest men.

Ho! varlets, to the door with him! Throw him into the kennel." "You shall rue this, villain!--you shall rue it bitterly," Sir Francis cried, shaking his clenched hands at him.