“That’s why I’m joining up. I owe it to Jerry—to finish what he began. By working hard, and submitting to orders, as he could never do, poor soul, maybe I’ll be able to clear off the debt he owed. He shall rise again in his father’s effort....”
Thyrza was crying now. “And Tom?” she asked in her tears—“I want to do summat for him, too, Mus’ Sumption. How shall Tom rise up agaun?”
He pointed to the cradle at her feet:
“There’s your Tom—risen again both for you and for his country. Take him and be comforted.”
She sank down on her knees beside the cradle, hiding her face under the hood, and he turned and left her, stalking out through the shop into the darkness.
Crouching there in the firelight, with her baby held warm and heavy against her breast, she heard his tread grow fainter and fainter, till at last only an occasional throb of wind brought her the footsteps of the lonely man upon the road.
Transcriber’s Note.
- Simple spelling, grammar, and typographical errors have been silently corrected.
- Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.