And away he marched up and down the room to his doddering old song, and then drew up before me, making passes as if he were saluting, and bowed almost to his knees, bringing his hands up to his forehead and performed a low salute, which he informed Angus was only given to the Grand Turk on great occasions.
"Well, well," he said, at last, with a great sigh of relief, "my heart is easy now I see they wouldn't trust you with a sword; though I might set you up with the cook's skewer, if they won't do anything better for you!" And here, at last, he succeeded in angering me, for it was a point I was somewhat uncertain about, and only my delicacy had prevented my speaking of it to Father Urbani.
"'Tis lucky for you, Mr. O'Rourke, that I haven't it," I said, "or I would truss you so that the heathen you are going to feed would have nothing more to do than baste you!" For I supposed he would be off as a missionary like most of those from the Propaganda.
"I COULD NOT HELP STRUTTING AS WE PASSED THE FASHIONABLES"
"I don't know about the eating, Giovannini, my son, but you are quite right about the heathen, for I am going to follow the Drum like yourself, and if you ever come properly accredited to the Chaplain of the Company of St. James, in the Regiment Irlandia, you may have a surprise."
"Oh, Mr. O'Rourke!" I shouted, embracing him at the same time, "surely this isn't only another bit of your funning."
"Funning? 'Tis genuine brimstone and piety combined, that's what it is, and within a week after I take orders I'll be off. So 'tis only 'good-bye' till 'tis 'good-day' again."
The next morning, when I went to take leave of Father Urbani, I saw before him on the table a silver-mounted sword, at the sight of which my heart gave a great leap, for I could not doubt it was for me. He did not keep me in suspense, but handed it to me at once. "See what you think of that, Giovannini?"