“And at that word,” says Aulay Macneill, when he tells the tale, “at that word the pulse in my heart was like a bat in a shut room. But after a bit I took up the talk.
“‘Indeed,’ I said; ‘and I was not for knowing that. May I be so bold as to ask whose son, and of what place?’
“But all he said to me was, ‘I am Judas.’
“Well, I said, to comfort him, ‘Sure, it’s not such a bad name in itself, though I am knowing some which have a more home-like sound.’ But no, it was no good.
“‘I am Judas. And because I sold the Son of God for five pieces of silver …’
“But here I interrupted him and said,—‘Sure, now, Neil—I mean, Judas—it was eight times five.’ Yet the simpleness of his sorrow prevailed, and I listened with the wet in my eyes.
“‘I am Judas. And because I sold the Son of God for five silver shillings, He laid upon me all the nameless black sins of the world. And that is why I am bearing them till the Day of Days.’”
And this was the end of the Sin-Eater; for I will not tell the long story of Aulay Macneill, that gets longer and longer every winter: but only the unchanging close of it.