“I don’t know anything about any paper,” insisted Herbert. “My sister didn’t tell me anything about a paper.”
“You don’t need to know anything about the paper,” said Sheldon. “We tell you that the girl got a sworn paper from Mammy an’ Mammy’s out of her head an’ she talks too much. She don’t know what she’s sayin’, but a sworn lie holds for the truth.” He leaned forward and laid a scrap of paper on Herbert’s knee. “You tell her that you’re here an’ that you’re safe, an’ that she shall send the paper, then by morning you can go.”
“I can’t make her send it.”
Sheldon laughed.
“She’ll send it to get her baby boy!” said he.
The insulting words brought Herbert to his feet.
“She won’t do anything of the kind. She’s gone for help, long ago, I can tell you that. Do you think she’ll sit down there and do nothing? You don’t know her! We were told that the instant you gave us any trouble we could have the constabulary come up here. They’ll wipe you out! They’ve got your deeds recorded! They’ll punish you for the present and the past.”
A dark figure appeared in the faint speckled circle of lamplight.
“I told you so!” said the woman’s voice, which Herbert had heard before. “Destruction is waiting for us! Destruction from our airless lives, according to the nurse, and destruction from the guns of the soldiers.”
Sheldon rose muttering.