‘I’ve had so much time to think about things, uncle!’
‘Yes. Well—I hope you will think more about things yet.’
‘Yes, uncle. But there’s something else I should like to ask you about.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The old sword.’
My uncle smiled, and rose again, saying, ‘Ah! I thought as much. Is that anything like it?’ he added, bringing it from the bottom of a cupboard.
I took it from his hands with awe. It was the same. If I could have mistaken the hilt, I could not mistake the split sheath.
‘Oh, uncle!’ I exclaimed, breathless with delight.
‘That’s it—isn’t it?’ he said, enjoying my enjoyment.
‘Yes, that it is! Now tell me all about it, please.’