“Trowbridge, Trowbridge, my friend, come and see!” de Grandin’s voice sounded in my ear.
I sat up, sleepily staring about me. Daylight had just begun; the gray of early morning still mingled with the first faint rose of the new day, and outside my window the blackbirds were singing.
“Eh, what’s up?” I demanded, swinging my feet to the floor.
“Plenty, a very plenty, I do assure you,” he answered, tugging delightedly first at one end of his moustache, then the other. “Arise, my friend, arise and pack your bags; we must go immediately, at once, right away.”
He fairly pranced about the room while I shaved, washed, and made ready for the journey, meeting my bewildered demands for information only with renewed entreaties for haste. At last, as I accompanied him down the great stairway my kit
