“I owed you my life that night, but you owe me yours for keeping silence. If I had told, you would have been hanged up there,” pointing to the yard; “so we are quits. I owe you nothing and you owe me nothing; and I hope some day to show you what an honest boy can do to a rogue.”
Juan answered never a word, but seemed as if he were choking as he turned and walked slowly away.
“IF I HAD TOLD, YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN HANGED UP THERE.”
Chapter X.
It would have been hard to guess at all the different emotions that wrought within the heart of the convict boy when Diego’s angry and cruel words checked his generous impulse to offer his good-will.
The chief among the emotions at first was humiliation; but jostling the humiliation were grief, anger, bitter scorn, and regret at having given room in his heart to his generous impulse; and he had not taken ten steps away from Diego before it was anger that had control of him and was coloring every other feeling. He would have turned then and said something bitter to Diego, but he was accosted by Miguel, who had watched him anxiously when he went to speak to Diego, and who had grinned unpleasantly at his rebuff.
“So, the pious little priestling would have none of the jail-bird, eh?” said Miguel, in a tone between sneering and sympathy.