"Thank'ee sir," replied Treherne, while the others all bowed and scraped and pulled their forelocks; "my old woman 'll keep the young lady safe, till her pony-kittereen or your carriage comes for her; and we'll drink your health, and Mr. Trevelyan's too--aye, and the old Cornish toast of 'Fish, tin, and copper,' in summat better than Devonshire cider." So, while Sybil in Audley's care was taken to the cottage of the old miner, and the latter with those who had joined in the search departed to enjoy the bounty of the General, the latter limped off to visit Constance and relate the story of her daughter's escape and safety. CHAPTER XVI. INTELLIGENCE AT LAST. On seeing Constance without her bonnet, and with her dark hair somewhat in disorder, the first impression of the General was, how extremely like her daughter she proved, and how very youthful too; for her figure, as we have elsewhere said, was petite; her features were minute, beautiful and full of animation at all times, but never more so than now, when she started forward on the entrance of the visitor, with her delicate hands uplifted, her fine eyes sparkling through their tears, full of hope and inquiry, and her lips parted, showing the whiteness and faultless regularity of her teeth. "You have news for me, General?" she faltered. "Happily, good news, madam," said he, bowing low; "your daughter is safe and well." "Oh, sir--oh, General Trecarrel, how can I thank you?" "By composing yourself, my dear madam," he replied, leading her to a chair; but Constance became almost hysterical; she clasped his hand in hers, and almost sought to kiss it, in expression of her deep gratitude, greatly to the confusion of the old soldier, who was Englishman enough to dislike a "scene." "Under the circumstances, no apology is necessary for the abruptness of my visit," said he; "we are pretty near neighbours, and I hope shall ultimately be friends, though, singular to say, I have never had the pleasure of meeting Captain Devereaux." These words recalled Constance to a sense--the ever-bitter sense--of the awkwardness of her position, and she faltered out-- "Captain Devereaux is absent at present--abroad indeed--but I hope he shall soon be home now. And our dear daughter--she escaped the rising tide----" "By fortunately being able to find shelter in the Pixies' Hole, from which she was promptly rescued by a young friend--a brother-officer of mine." "Oh, how I shall bless him and ever treasure his name." "He is Mr. Audley Trevelyan, and has conveyed her, in the first place, to old Mike Treherne's cottage. She was drenched by rain and spray, suffering from chill, and overcome with terror." "My poor little Sybil!" The General did not add to the mother's alarm by adding that he had left Sybil insensible, but only said--