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But let en wait for the last trump as'll rip the deep oceans. An' the feesh damn 'em if I thot they'd nose Tom, by God I'd catch every feesh as ever swum. But shall feesh be 'lowed to eat what's had a everlasting sawl in it? God forbid. He'm theer, I doubt, wi' seaweed round en an' sea-maids a cryin' awver his lil white faace an' keepin' the crabs away.
He sin his faace quite plain, and that it weer Dave." "Now, Marston, where for next?" shouted the squire, after taking a long look round over the open water, now illumined by the sun. "Try that island yonder," was the reply. "There's a hut among the low fir-trees, and I fancy it is his making."
An' Clem's made it clear 't was all my damn silly silence to blame. I had a gert thought in me and wasn't gwaine to write till but that's awver an' done, an' a purty kettle of feesh, tu. We must faace this coil first." "Thank God, you can forgive me. I'd never have had courage to ax 'e." "You was drove into it. I knaw there's awnly wan man in the world for 'e. Ban't nothin' to forgive.
"No, never, not if you'd awnly turn your faace the right way. Theer's oceans o' comfort an' love waitin' for 'e, gal. You did belong to a hard world, as I knaws who have just comed from speech wi' your faither; but 'twas a world o' clean eatin' an' dressin' an' livin' a God-fearin' world leadin' up'ards on a narrer, ugly road, but a safe road, I s'pose. An' you left it.
I 'ave two two kids I 'ave; an' so 'elp me Gawd, things bein' as they are, I wouldn't say nothin' if one of 'em was Macnamara's wich it ain't no fear!" "Was Macnamara here you wouldn't say thaat to his faace, aw'm thinkin'." "I'd break 'is 'ulkin' neck first. I ain't puttin' these things on the 'oardins, an' I ain't thinkin' 'em, if 'ee's alive in the clutches of the 'eathen Kalifer at Homdurman.
An' I caan't bide in the streets, so I axes you to keep me till Mister Jan do come to fetch me. I find words hard to use to 'splain things, but his God's differ'nt to what the Luke Gosp'lers' is, an' I lay 'tis differ'nt to yourn. But his God's mine anyways, an' I'm not afeared o' what I done, nor 'shamed to look folks in the faace. That's how 'tis, Uncle Thomas.
Look at that gert, good man, Tregenza. Oh, my God, my blood do creem when I think on't!" The man stopped and his brother took up the story. "'Twas arterwards, when us had weathered the worst an' was tryin' to fetch home, Michael failed forward on's faace arter the bwoy was drownded; an' us had to do all for the bwoat wi'out en.
Dear, dear! though he made me so darned angry last night, I could have laughed in his faace more 'n wance." "Missy's under the weather this marnin'," declared Billy.
Ban't meant you should give yourself up that's how I read it." "'T is cowardly, waitin' an' playin' into his hands; an' if you awnly knawed how this has fouled my mind wi' evil, an' soured the very taste of what I eat, an' dulled the faace of life, an' blunted the right feeling in me even for them I love best, you'd never bid me bide on under it.
'Twon't harm godless folks to wake 'em an' faace 'em with their wrongdoing. An' I lay you'll remember another time." Tom, knowing that words would be utterly wasted, went back to his attic, dressed, and started. He had the satisfaction of eating apples in the moonlight and of posing as a bitterly wronged boy at Drift when Mary came down, lighted a candle, and let him into the house.
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