“I will. Nay, I will not, He is as innocent, and nearer to me and to thee.”
Margaret drew a long breath, “'Tis well, Hadst taken it, I might have hated thee; I am but a woman.”
When they had gone about a quarter of a mile, Gerard sighed.
“Margaret,” said he, “I must e'en rest; he is too heavy for me.”
“Then give him me, and take thou these. Alas! alas! I mind when thou wouldst have run with the child on one shoulder, and the mother on t'other.”
And Margaret carried the boy.
“I trow,” said Gerard, looking down, “overmuch fasting is not good for a man.”
“A many die of it each year, winter time,” replied Margaret.
Gerard pondered these simple words, and eyed her askant, carrying the child with perfect ease. When they had gone nearly a mile he said with considerable surprise, “You thought it was but two butts' length.”
“Not I.”