Galloping Dick
to her. I have paid tithes and given charities. But ofttimes … i’ faith”—and here I laughed—“’twas fetched out of some noodle’s pocket.”
I paused. The Bishop lifted the tips of his lingers apart, and looked at me. “I fear,” said he, “that there is no conscience but carries grievous burdens.”
He nestled more snugly in his cushions, crossed his plump legs, and closed his eyes; and with the act seemed to dismiss me from his presence. I surveyed him for a moment in silence, and with some amazement. Not a point upon his well-ordered body but witnessed to a life of ease and dignity. He was full-fed; his spreading belly was arrogant with appetite; his broad calm face was rich with ample and luxurious wastes. He was built generously upon secure and comfortable years. And there he lay, the rough wind thrashing his warm flesh, obnoxious to the instant handling of a wild highwayman, mumbling a conversation in polite terms, unmoved by danger, and underanged by discomfort. The control of the man was so admirable that I must push it to
6
