Of the Bishop’s Quandary
in so well-favoured a youth as you would seem,” and his glance strayed over me deliberately. “But I have known many ruffians like yourself in a long and lively experience.”
He put his hand to his coat, and slowly withdrawing a snuff-box, tapped meditatively upon the lid. And at the sight I was divided strangely in a confusion between a roaring sense of laughter and an angry surge of ill-temper. Swinging in the balance uncertainly for a moment, I dropped with a plump at length upon the side of passion. The Bishop was staring into his snuff. I rapped a pistol over his knuckles, and when he looked up he gazed instead down the long hollows of the barrel.
“Come,” says I, with a rough oath, “forth with your precious guineas, or I’ll spoil the smooth beauty of those cheeks. I will have you unload your pockets, my fat vicegerent, an’ I cannot force you disburden your conscience. Off with your jewels and your rings!”
The Bishop inspected the weapon without flinching, and then looked me quietly in the
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