“Come,” he said; “this is better; up and walking. You look different, too. Why, I might venture to send your horse over for you to try and mount, but not yet.”
“Why not yet?” I said, as we sat down among the cushions.
“For several reasons,” he replied, smiling at me. “I want to see you stronger.”
“But I think I could mount now; and, at a gentle walk, the exercise would do me good.”
“Perhaps,” he said; “but we must see.”
He clapped his hands, and Salaman glided up.
“Bring coffee and a pipe,” he said.
Salaman bowed and retired.
“I have ridden far,” he said to me, “and am tired.”
“Tell me about the state of the country,” I said eagerly, after we had sat some moments in silence.