At the same time I'll warn ye not to put too heavy a strain on my generosity, which resides at the moment in my trigger-finger.

Ye mean to hang me, and since that's the worst that can happen to me anyway, you'll realize that I'll not boggle at increasing the account by spilling your nasty blood." He cast his cane from him, thus disengaging his left hand.

"Be good enough to give me your arm, Colonel Bishop.

Come, come, man, your arm." Under the compulsion of that sharp tone, those resolute eyes, and that gleaming pistol, Bishop obeyed without demur.

His recent foul volubility was stemmed.