“Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y'are young to talk so.”
“Young or old, what else have I to live for?”
He put on his best clothes.
The good dame remonstrated. “My pretty Gerard, know that it is Tuesday, not Sunday.”
“Oh, Tuesday is it? I thought it had been Saturday.”
“Nay, thou hast slept long. Thou never wearest thy brave clothes on working days. Consider.”
“What I did, when she lived, I did. Now I shall do whatever erst I did not. The past is the past. There lies my hair, and with it my way of life. I have served one Master as well as I could. You see my reward. Now I'll serve another, and give him a fair trial too.”
“Alas!” sighed the woman, turning pale, “what mean these dark words? and what new master is this whose service thou wouldst try?”
“SATAN.”
And with this horrible declaration on his lips the miserable creature walked out with his cap and feather set jauntily on one side, and feeble limbs, and a sinister face pale as ashes, and all drawn down as if by age.