“Faith in what? In God? You’re dreaming.”
“Call it God, or Life, or anything else you like. I haven’t given up on it. Because no matter how close I’ve come to it, Death has never had the final word. My flesh still lives, and therefore my hope. Maybe I am dreaming. But without dreams a man’s got nothing, nothing at all.”
Stephen looked down, undecided.
“So what’s to keep me from walking out, except the threat of a shot in the back?”
“I won’t shoot you. If you want to walk out into hostile country, a wanted man, that’s up to you. But I wouldn’t give a ha'penny for your life, if you run afoul of that man Ballard. At least you know, or you should, that I’m an honorable man.”
“You speak of honor,” said Stephen, “and trust. And yet you won’t even tell me your name. Don’t I deserve that much?”
“I will tell you that when we have set them free, along with anything else you like. I don’t ask you to understand that, just accept it. Anonymity is my one defense. That’s the way it is.”
... “I need time to think,” said Stephen finally.
“And you shall have it. After I finish here I’ve got a long ride ahead of me, to make preparations. You shall have most of the day. But whatever you decide, we must be gone from here tonight. If I know human nature, your Ballard won’t send anyone to relieve his comrade, or come himself, till tomorrow at least. Be we can’t take that chance.”
“And what if he comes back today? You’re not going to bind me, and leave me here without a weapon?”