“You say that! Would you harbour a convict from Princetown if you found him hiding on your farm?”
“Ban’t a like case. Theer ’s the personal point of view, if you onderstand me. A man deserts from the army ten years ago, an’ you, a sort o’ amateur soldier, feels ’t is your duty to give un to justice.”
“Well, isn’t that what has happened?”
“No fay! Nothing of the sort. If ’t was your duty, why didn’t you do it fust minute you found it out? If you’d writ to the authorities an’ gived the man up fust moment, I might have said ’t was a hard deed, but I’d never have dared to say ’t weern’t just. Awnly you done no such thing. You nursed the power an’ sucked the thought, same as furriners suck at poppy poison. You played with the picture of revenge against a man you hated, an’ let the idea of what you’d do fill your brain; an’ then, when you wanted bigger doses, you told Phoebe what you knawed—reckoning as she’d tell Will bimebye. That’s bad, Jan Grimbal—worse than poisoning foxes, by God! An’ you knaw it.”
“Who are you, to judge me and my motives?”
“An auld man, an’ wan as be deeply interested in this business. Time was when we thought alike touching the bwoy; now we doan’t; ’cause your knowledge of un hasn’t grawed past the point wheer he downed us, an’ mine has.”
“You ’re a fool to say so. D’ you think I haven’t watched the young brute these many years? Self-sufficient, ignorant, hot-headed, always in the wrong. What d’ you find to praise in the clown? Look at his life. Failure! failure! failure! and making of enemies at every turn. Where would he be to-day but for you?”
“Theer ’s a rare gert singleness of purpose ’bout un.”
“A grand success he is, no doubt. I suppose you couldn’t get on without him now. Yet you cursed the cub freely enough once.”
“Bitter speeches won’t serve ’e, Grimbal; but they show me mighty clear what’s hid in you. Your sawl ’s torn every way by this thing, an’ you turn an’ turn again to it, like a dog to his vomit, yet the gude in ’e drags ’e away.”