"Is it her kinsman that speaks?" exclaimed Maud. "Is it the son of her sister would bring shame upon her memory? Is it a grandson of mine would defame my Margaret? Na, na. Thou'rt no Michael of mine. Out of my sight, viper, before I call the curse of Heaven upon thy head. Na, na. Let me go. Let me go." And she quitted the room. But she came back again almost immediately. "Ye did na mean it, Michael," she said. "Ye did na mean it. Good night to ye, my own boy. Good night." "Good night, grandame," Michael answered, sulkily. The next day he and Everope started on their return to London. END OF VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED BY STEWART AND MURRAY, OLD BAILEY. End of Project Gutenberg's Trevethlan: Volume 1, by William Davy Watson