"I shall die hard," I stammered; "no one will know it, but I shall die hard out there in the snow."
"I will stand next to you if I can," said Mount. "If you feel weak, reach out and touch me. I shall jest with the hangman. It is easy; you will see how easy it can be." I raised my head to look at him.
"You care nothing," I said, fiercely; "you will see Cade Renard, and you care nothing! But I am leaving her!"
"God will right all that," said Mount, gravely.
"As for death," I blurted out, pronouncing the word with an effort, "I can die as coolly as you. But—but a gentleman's son—on the gibbet—hanging in chains between thieves—the disgrace—"
Shame strangled the voice in my throat, my head reeled.
"Our Lord so died," said Mount, slowly.
I sat still as a stone. Mount gathered his knees in his hands and chewed his straw peacefully, blue eyes fixed on vacancy.
Presently I plucked his sleeve. "Yes, lad," he said, without turning.
"You are not afraid that I will not know how to meet—it?" I asked.