"Now, see here, Jude." Jared spoke through a full mouth. "You and me can't afford to work at cross purposes. Where we failed once, we are going to succeed next time."
"You darsn't show your face down there beyond the woods again, and you know it." Jude spoke doggedly. "They was after us both. Besides I can't stand transplanting. It would be the death of me. It nearly was."
"Don't be white-livered, Jude. You see the laws have changed more than any one could have thought, while I was browsing away in St. Angé. That's where I made my mistake. I ought to have taken time and got the lay of the land 'fore I beckoned to you; but it looked safe enough, and I had to take, or leave the Joint, sudden. How could any man know it was spotted, and so had to be got rid of? It was one on us and no mistake.
"Fill up my cup, Jude, you're a tasty one with cooking."
Jude obeyed and muttered as he did so: "Luck or no luck, I ain't got nothing, nor ever will have again, so that's an end of it."
"Jude, where you going to?"
"Where be you?"
Up aloft Billy waited.
"I'm going to St. Angé." There was defiance in Jude's tone—defiance and a sort of shame; Jude had again lost his grip.
"I've just come from there," said Jared.