Galloping Dick
of wine and a roast loin of veal, my lord; and me, too, Dick Ryder, for company, in admiring witness of your estimable qualities.” I concluded with a long congee, and when I looked up again he was watching me with some suspicion.
“Faith,” said I, “you have reached me forth a warm invitation, and you would now withdraw? Fie, fie! my lord. But as I may not be your guest for lack of confidence, sink me,” says I, “then you shall be mine, and none the worse for that.”
The Bishop cocked his head upon one side and scrutinised me carefully.
“Lord, Lord!” I cried, “but here’s a doubting Thomas!” And loosening my belt I flung pistols and sword upon his lap.
The Bishop smiled, and took a pistol by the muzzle in a most gingerly manner of distaste. “I have never set off a firearm but once,” he mused, “and by accident it hit a grocer.”
“Pooh!” said I, grinning, “’tis all one, whether of design or accident. The hole is blown, and the poor groaning soul slides
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