“Don’t you see,” I said rather sullenly, “that if your hypothesis is correct your prayer is rather superfluous?”
“Well, yes, it is superfluous
,” he said with a harsh laugh quite unlike him; “he is damned already sure enough.”
“I don’t see much sign of damnation about him,” I said, “not if misery be an essential part of damnation.”
“Well, yes, the misery that comes of malice, and if ever malice and misery were written in a man’s face, they were written in his yesterday when they missed those men. And mark me,” Jack added, raising his voice, “his damnation has got something to do with the loss of those men.”
[135] I was now getting very angry, so I rose to my feet and said hastily—“If we have nothing to talk about, don’t you think that we may as well go back?”
Jack rose and said, “No, Bob, we’ll not go back yet awhile. Don’t be vexed with me, old fellow. You are in more danger than I am, but your danger is mine.” As he said this I saw the same expression on his face which I had seen yesterday, an expression of kindness and anxiety, and it had much the same effect on me now.
“Jack,” I said, “forgive me, I declare I believe you are partly right; I believe there is some devilish influence at work trying to set me against you. I caught myself yesterday despising you for not being clever, and there were two devils in that, for you are twice as clever as I am, and even if you were not you are ten times as good.”
“Ah, Bob, my boy, there is plenty of reason to suspect me of stupidity without supposing that the devil is in the dance.
‘Nec deus (or diabolus) intersit nisi dignus vindice nodus.’