“Then everybody does not think himself in the right! I take your lordship’s admission as an apology.”
“By no means: when I make an apology, I will do it; I will not sneak out of it.”
He was evidently at strife with himself: he knew he was wrong, but could not yet bring himself to say so. It is one of the poorest of human weaknesses that a man should be ashamed of saying he has done wrong, instead of so ashamed of having done wrong that he cannot rest till he has said so; for the shame cleaves fast until the confession removes it.
Forgue walked away a step or two, and stood with his back to Donal, poking the point of his stick into the grass. All at once he turned and said:
“I will apologize if you will tell me one thing.”
“I will tell you whether you apologize or not,” said Donal. “I have never asked you to apologize.”
“Tell me then why you did not return either of my blows yesterday.”
“I should like to know why you ask—but I will answer you: simply because to do so would have been to disobey my master.”
“That’s a sort of thing I don’t understand. But I only wanted to know it was not cowardice; I could not make an apology to a coward.”
“If I were a coward, you would owe me an apology all the same, and he is a poor creature who will not pay his debts. But I hope it is not necessary I should either thrash or insult your lordship to convince you I fear you no more than that blackbird there!”