"I'm monstrous glad to see you, Jim," he said.
"You—you can't mean that, sir! 'Twas I left your pistols unloaded."
"I know. Damned careless of you, but it's the sort of thing I should do myself, after all."
Jim advanced to the bedside.
"Do you mean you forgive me, sir?"
"Why, of course! I could not have fired on my best friend in any case."
"No, sir, but that don't make it any better."
"It doesn't, of course, and I was rather annoyed at the time—Oh, devil take you, Jim, don't look at me like that! I'm not dead yet!"
"If—if you had been killed, sir—'twould have been my fault."
"Rubbish! I'd a sword, hadn't I? For heaven's sake don't worry about it any more! Have you brought all my baggage?"