He tilted his head still higher, towards the ridge and the rock on which I stood against his skyline, frantically waving.
"HOO-ROAR!"
"And to think, lad," he panted, ten minutes later, as he stretched himself on the heath beside me—"to think of your mistaking me for a deer!"
"Did I say so, Billy? Then I lied. It was for a mufro I took you.
Marc'antonio here had as good as promised me one."
His beaming smile changed on the instant to a look of extreme gravity.
"See you, lad," he said, "have you ever come across one of these here wild sheep?"
"Not yet."
"I thought not. Well, I have; and I advise you not to talk irreligious about 'em."
"I will talk about nothing," said I, "until you tell me how my father is, and of all your adventures."
"He's well, lad—hearty, and well, and thriving. And he sends you his love, and a paper for your friend here. 'Tis from the Princess; and the upshot is, you're released from your word and free to come back with me."