“Ron, my dear fellow,” he said penitently, “I’m most awfully sorry. Why didn’t you shout?”
I burst out laughing.
“I entered a protest in vigorous terms, but you were otherwise engaged at the moment, and, anyway, don’t look so scared about it, old man; it’ll be quite all right in a minute.”
Poor Dennis was quite upset at the evidence I bore of his absorption in the miracle, and we postponed our discussion while he massaged the injured arm in order to restore the flow of blood.
“Where’s Hilderman?” I asked presently, and though we looked everywhere for the American he was nowhere to be seen.
“He didn’t look the sort to funk like that,” said Dennis thoughtfully.
“I should have been prepared to bet he was quite brave,” I concurred. “Well, anyway,” I added, “the main point is, what do you think of our entertainment? You’ve come a long way for it, but I hope you are not disappointed now you’ve seen it. It’s original, isn’t it?”
“By heaven, Ron!” he cried, “you’re right. It is original. It is even a more unholy, indescribable mystery than I expected, and I never accused you of exaggerating it, even in my own mind.”
“I’m glad that both you and Hilderman have had ocular demonstration of it,” I remarked. “It is so much more convincing, and will help you to go into the matter without any feeling that we are out on a hare-brained shadow-chase.”