I was very grave in the pause.
“You’ll not forget t’ be kind, will you,” he pleaded, “t’ them that suffer for your sins?”
“I will not sin,” I protested, “t’ the hurt of any others.”
He seemed not to hear. “An’ you’ll bear your own pain,” he continued, “like a man, will you not?”
I would bear it like a man.
“That’s good,” said he. “That’s very good!”
The moon was now risen from the sea: the room full of white light.
“They is a Shepherd,” said my uncle. “God be thanked for that. He’ll fetch you home.”
“An’ you?” said I.
“Me? Oh no!”