‘Thaa doesn't know whose bairn it is, Captain, or thaa'd never trouble to go in after it. It's his whose dog welly worried thee and me on th' Caanty Court day.’
But the instinct of Captain was nearer the thought of God than was the moral nature of Moses, and, despite threat and cuff and kick, the dog so dragged his collar that Moses, weak from his long illness, felt he must either let go his hold or follow the leading of the noble creature.
And now commenced a terrible struggle in the soul of Moses. He turned pale, and great drops of sweat stood upon his brow, as he felt himself in the grasp of a stronger and better nature than his own. Looking round to see if his relentless act were watched, he breathed more freely as he saw along the miles of moorland no sign of human life. Only his eye, and the eye of Captain—and then he realized that other Eye that filled all space—the Eye that looked down from the cloudless light. Fiercely the struggle waged. The voice of Moses cried out of the deeps of his own black heart, ‘My time has come, as I said it would.’ But the words of Mr. Penrose—heeded not when uttered—rang out clear and telling: ‘Vengeance is Mine, I will repay.’
‘But is not this God's vengeance?’ replied the voice of the lower man.
And then came the reply:
‘Would God punish Oliver through his child as Oliver punished you through your dog? Am I a man, and not God?’
Moses looked round, as though someone had spoken in his ear, and, loosing his hold of Captain, muttered:
‘Go, if thaa wants.’