“But, sir, 'tis a false peace.”
“At all events he is confessing his sins, Yeo; and if that's not good for him, and you, and me, what is?”
“Yea, Amen! sir; but this is not to the right person.”
“How do you know his words will not go to the right person, after all, though he may not send them there? By heaven! the man is dead!”
It was so. The dark catalogue of brutal deeds had been gasped out; but ere the words of absolution could follow, the head had fallen back, and all was over.
“Confession in extremis is sufficient,” said Parsons to Eustace (“Ballard,” as Parsons called him, to Amyas's surprise), as he rose. “As for the rest, the intention will be accepted instead of the act.”
“The Lord have mercy on his soul!” said Eustace.
“His soul is lost before our very eyes,” said Yeo.
“Mind your own business,” said Amyas.
“Humph; but I'll tell you, sir, what our business is, if you'll step aside with me. I find that poor fellow that lies dead is none other than the leader of the Gubbings; the king of them, as they dare to call him.”