Galloping Dick
might tickle those thick creases of your own. And which were the greater sin?” I asked with indignation.
“Indeed,” said he softly, “you do us both injustice. But ’tis a bitter night for so long and engrossing an argument as this is like to develop between us. ’Twould please me greatly else, and if I may but see you at some other time” He bowed, and left the invitation in his bow. “But I was to hear your history,” says he. “I interrupt you. Pray proceed.”
The serenity of his phrases staggered me, and I could do naught but scrape my wits up in a heap and burst out on him. “Fore gad,” I broke forth, “I have stopped a man’s vitals for less impudence than yours. A bloody priest, forsooth, to prate of justice and of argument! You are a man of Holy Writ. Faugh! Call me a ruffian, a cut-throat, or a vagabond—but I have broke your decalogue into a thousand pieces, and turned and shattered ’em again.”
“That,” said the Bishop gravely, “lies betwixt yourself and your Maker. ’Tis a pity
8
