"Call me M. Rodolph, as you used to do; I like it better."
"And so do I,—it comes so much easier to one. But be so good as to excuse my hand; I have done so much work lately, that—"
"Your hand, I tell you,—your hand!"
Overcome by this kind and persevering command, the Chourineur timidly extended his black and horny palm, which Rodolph warmly shook.
"Now, then, sit down, and tell me all about it,—how you discovered the cellar. But I think I can guess. The Schoolmaster?"
"We have him in safety," said the black doctor.
"Yes, he and the Chouette, tied together like two rolls of tobacco. A pair of pretty creatures they look, as ever you would wish to see, and, I doubt not, sick enough of each other's company by this time."
"And my poor Murphy! What a selfish wretch must I be to think only of myself! Where is he wounded, David?"
"In the right side, my lord; but, fortunately, towards the lower false rib."
"Oh, I must have a deep and terrible revenge for this! David, I depend upon your assistance."