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A wrong to both, you say, perhaps; but if so, irreparable, and never to be recompensed. Never? "Yoh must go, my little girl," he said at last. Whatever he did must be done quickly. She came up, combing the thin gray hairs through her fingers. "Father, I dunnot understan' what it is, rightly. But stay with me, stay, father!" "Yoh've a many frien's, Lo," he said, with a keen flash of jealousy.
"My father was outside," said Holmes, some old bitterness rising up in his tone, his gray eye lighting with some unrevenged wrong. Polston did not speak for a moment. "Dunnot bear malice agin her. They're dead, now. It wasn't left fur her to judge him out yonder. Yoh've yer father's eyes, Stephen, 'times. Hungry, pitiful, like women's. His got desper't' 't th' last.
A wrong to both, you say, perhaps; but if so, irreparable, and never to be recompensed. Never? "Yoh must go, my little girl," he said at last. Whatever he did must be done quickly. She came up, combing the thin gray hairs through her fingers. "Father, I dunnot understan' what it is, rightly. But stay with me, stay, father!" "Yoh've a many frien's, Lo," he said, with a keen flash of jealousy.
The sullen, stealthy face disgusted Holmes. He nodded, shortly. "Yoh've been kind to my little girl while I was gone," he said, catching his breath. "I thank yoh, master." "You need not. It was for Lois." "'Twas fur her I comed back hyur. 'Twas a resk," with a dumb look of entreaty at Holmes, "but fur her I thort I'd try it. I know 'twas a resk; but I thort them as cared fur Lo wud be merciful.
"My father was outside," said Holmes, some old bitterness rising up in his tone, his gray eye lighting with some unrevenged wrong. Polston did not speak for a moment. "Dunnot bear malice agin her. They're dead, now. It wasn't left fur her to judge him out yonder. Yoh've yer father's Stephen, 'times. Hungry, pitiful, like women's. His got desper't' 't th' last. Drunk hard, died of 't, yoh know.
"Come out, Yare," he said, quietly. "Any word? What word is arson, eh?" The man did not move. Holmes touched him with the stick. "Come out," he said. He came out, looking gaunt, as with famine. "I'll not flurr myself," he said, crunching his ragged hat in his hands, "I'll not." He drove the hat down upon his head, and looked up with a sullen fierceness. "Yoh've got me, an' I'm glad of 't.
The sullen, stealthy face disgusted Holmes. He nodded, shortly. "Yoh've been kind to my little girl while I was gone," he said, catching his breath. "I thank yoh, Marster." "You need not. It was for Lois." "'T was fur her I comed back hyur. 'T was a resk," with a dumb look of entreaty at Holmes, "but fur her I thort I'd try it. I know't was a resk; but I thort them as cared fur Lo wud be merciful.
"Come out, Yare," he said, quietly. "Any word? What word is arson, eh?" The man did not move. Holmes touched him with the stick. "Come out," he said. He came out, looking gaunt, as with famine. "I'll not flurr myself," he said, crunching his ragged hat in his hands, "I'll not." He drove the hat down upon his head, and looked up with a sullen fierceness. "Yoh've got me, an' I'm glad of 't.
I'm glad things is takin' a good turn with yoh; an' yoh'll never be like him, starvin' fur th' kind wured, an' havin' to die without it. I'm glad yoh've got true love. She'd a fair face, I think. I wish yoh well, Stephen." Holmes shook the grimy hand, and then stood a moment looking back to the mill, from which the hands were just coming, and then down at the phaeton moving idly down the road.
I'm glad things is takin' a good turn with yoh; an' yoh'll never be like him, starvin' fur th' kind wured, an' havin' to die without it. I'm glad yoh've got true love. She'd a fair face, I think. I wish yoh well, Stephen." Holmes shook the grimy hand, and then stood a moment looking back to the mill, from which the hands were just coming, and then down at the phaëton moving idly down the road.
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