"He was afraid," pursued Sal, "of being put into a pie." She paused at that, giving her words time to sink in. The preacher didn't notice yet awhile that Long Eliza Treleaven and Thomasine Oliver had crept round a bit and planted themselves in the footpath behind him. After a bit Sal let herself go in a comfortable smile, and says she, in a pretty, coaxing voice, "Sit yourself down, preacher, that's a dear: sit yourself down, nice and close, and have a talk!" The poor fellow fetched a start at this. He didn't know, of course, that everyone's "my dear" in Cornwall, and I'm bound to say I've seen foreigners taken aback by it--folks like commercial travellers, not given to shyness as a rule. "You'll excuse me, Madam." "No, I won't: not if you don't come and sit down quiet. Bless the man, I'm not going to eat 'ee--wouldn't harm a hair of your dear little head, if you had any! What? You refuse?" "How dare you, Madam!" The preacher drew himself up, mighty dignified. "How dare you address me in this fashion!" "I'm addressin' you for your good," answered Sally. "We've been talkin' over your sermon, me and my friends here--all very respectable women--and we've made up our minds that it won't do. We can't have it 'pon our conscience to let a gentleman with your views go kicking up Jack's delight through the West. We owe something more to our sex. 'Wrestlin'' with 'em--that was one of your expressions--'wrestlin' with our dear Cornish sisters'!" "In the spirit--a figure of speech," explained the poor man, snappy-like. Sal shook her head. "They know all about wrestlin' down yonder. I tell you, 'twon't do. You're a well-meaning man, no doubt; but you're terribly wrong on some points. You'd do an amazing amount of mischief if we let you run loose. But we couldn't take no such responsibility--indeed we couldn't: and the long and short of it is, you've got to go." She spoke these last words very firmly. The preacher flung a glance round and saw he was in a trap. "Such shameless behaviour----" he began. "You've got to go back," repeated Sally, nodding her head at him. "Take my advice and go quiet." "I can only suppose you to be intoxicated," said he, and swung round upon the path where Thomasine Oliver stood guard. "Allow me to pass, Madam, if you please!"