Galloping Dick
James of York were best-a-sporting with his newest doxy.”
Now, I will acknowledge ’twas my own default, for I had put myself all along upon his own level as a gentleman’s footboy; and he, poor man, must perforce take me at my own reckoning. But when he broke out into his harsh satirical laughter, it made me mad.
“Oh, his new Majesty is in luck,” says he laughing, “with a sword such as yours at his call. And as for James Stuart” Here he fell a-laughing in a loud rasping country fashion that was ill for me to bear.
My temper is of the quickest, and, whoever he might be, I was not for suffering the insolence of a dung-fork like him.
“Faith, then,” said I, starting red, “since you show such an appreciation of my sword, ’tis at your service.”
“Pish, man,” said he, still laughing, “sit down.”
But I was fair boiling now, and the thought that he could thus entreat me with such good-humoured indifference out of a belief that I was
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