Of the Bishop’s Quandary
the post is well chosen, and you are like to capture all his lordship’s guests.”
“We, my lord, we!” I cried, laughing. “Of myself, I make no pretensions to courage, but, bucklered with a fine fat fellow like yourself, I am fit to hold the road against a regiment of his Majesty.”
I declare that I had no anticipation of the event at the outset. The act was merely incidental; but when I smote the Bishop’s horse upon the rump, he put up his forelegs and plunged out upon the road, fetching his head, with a crash, through the window of the carriage as it pulled up. Confusion fell in a moment, and a frightened face shrank into the interior of the coach. The Bishop himself, for he was an indifferent horseman, being heavy above the saddle, was flung in a lump across the mane, and sat looking in at the window with a very red and angry face. He was a formidable fellow, with great thick eyebrows, and I swear it was as much the contortion of his ugly features as my own appearance with the pistol that finished the business on the spot. And he
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