Galloping Dick
“Why,” says I, “at eight o’clock I was in the company of His Most Gracious Majesty, King Charles the Second of that name, himself.”
Even as the words were off my tongue I looked at Old Rowley, but to my desperate chagrin he makes never a motion, and not an eyelash budges on him. ’Tis true that Madam gave vent to a little cry, but His Majesty himself sat as still and unconcerned as the dead.
“What is this?” cries Gold-lace, looking from me to Old Rowley in some perplexity, and as though uncertain of his cue.
“I fear, Captain,” says Old Rowley smoothly, “that here is some mistake; for, if you will recollect, ’twas I that had the privilege of your company at the hour you name.”
“Faith, and I made bold to recognise your Majesty,” said I, but feeling something abashed.
“What!” says he, opening nis eyes, and then went off into laughter. “Indeed, Captain, you have honoured me very greatly. But now I
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