He looked upon me with some admiration and cried:
"Aye, the cannibal shows a glimmer of reason. No, I have not your foolish papers, and I only wish I had them in order to hurl the bundle at your damned stupid head."
"For a kicked man you have a gay spirit," I replied. "But at any rate I have no time for you now. I am off to Bristol after my papers, and I only wish for the sake of ease that I had to go no farther than this chamber. Come, Paddy! Come, Jem!"
My two henchmen were manifestly disappointed; they turned reluctantly at my word.
"Have I the leave of one crack at him, your honour?" whispered Paddy earnestly. "He said my head was a lantern."
"No," said I, "leave him to his meditations."
As we passed down the corridor we heard him laugh loudly, and he called out to me,—
"When I come to Bristol I will kill you."
I had more than a mind to go back and stuff this threat into his throat, but I better knew my business, which was to recover the papers.
"Come," said I, and we passed down stairs.