"Oh, I've been dying to see you."
"Upon your honour?" asked Bob.
"Yes, yes," said Penelope. "I want to ask you so much, and I've got so much to say. But tell me, tell me quick. Does any one else know where I am?"
Bob shook dust out of his head.
"Not a soul, unless it's the bishop," he replied.
"What bishop?"
"The Bishop of Spilsborough," replied Bob. "I left him on the road."
"Oh!" gasped Pen, "is he following you?"
"Not much," said Bob. "He got scared and got out and wouldn't get in again, and he talked such rot I thought he was mad, for a bishop, so I left him, and suppose he's walking home again."
Pen almost shook him.