CHAPTER XVIII — A NIGHT OF SURPRISES.
If the American had expected to surprise or delight his companion by this curt announcement he was woefully disappointed, for De Catinat approached him with a face which was full of sympathy and trouble, and laid his hand caressingly upon his shoulder.
"My dear friend," said he, "I have been selfish and thoughtless. I have made too much of my own little troubles and too little of what you have gone through for me. That fall from your horse has shaken you more than you think. Lie down upon this straw, and see if a little sleep may not—"
"I tell you that the bishop is there!" cried Amos Green impatiently.
"Quite so. There is water in this jug, and if I dip my scarf into it and tie it round your brow—"
"Man alive! Don't you hear me! The bishop is there."
"He is, he is," said De Catinat soothingly. "He is most certainly there. I trust that you have no pain?"
The American waved in the air with his knotted fists. "You think that I am crazed," he cried, "and, by the eternal, you are enough to make me so! When I say that I sent the bishop, I mean that I saw to the job. You remember when I stepped back to your friend the major?"