“I told Michael you would;” and the villain, his temper restored, gave me the sunniest of smiles. “The fact is, between ourselves,” he continued, “Michael doesn’t understand a gentleman.”
I began to laugh.
“And you?” I asked.
“I do,” he said. “Well, well, the halter be it.”
“I’m sorry you won’t live to see it,” I observed.
“Has his Majesty done me the honour to fasten a particular quarrel on me?”
“I would you were a few years older, though.”
“Oh, God gives years, but the devil gives increase,” laughed he. “I can hold my own.”
“How is your prisoner?” I asked.
“The K—?”