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So it came to pass that we reached the wide inlet of our haven at the Yare's mouth too soon for the tide to take us in over the sands which grow and shift every year, and must needs drop anchor in the roads and wait, with home in sight, hill and church and houses clear and sharp against the afternoon sky after rain; while past us the long surges the storm had raised raced in over half-hidden sands, and broke in snow-white foam along the foot of the sand dunes of the shore, sending the spindrift flying up and inland over their low crests.
Well, ther' 's a day of makin' things clear, comin'." They had reached the corner now, and Polston turned down the lane. "Yoh 'll think o' Yare's case?" he said. "Yes. But how can I help it," Holmes said, lightly, "if I am like my mother, here?" putting his hand to his mouth. "God help us, how can yoh?
The old man loosened his hold of Holmes's arm, looked up and down the street, uncertain, disappointed. "The law. Yes. That's right! Yoh're a just man, Stephen Holmes." "And yet?" "Yes. I dun'no'. Law's right, but Yare's had a bad chance, an' he's tryin'. An' we're sendin' him to hell. Somethin's wrong. But I think yoh're a just man," looking keenly in Holmes's face.
It's a bad life, Joe Yare's; I wish 'n' 't would be better to the end" He stopped with a wistful look at Holmes, who stood outwardly attentive, but with little thought to waste on Joe Yare. The old coal-digger drummed on the fire-plug uneasily. "Myself, 't was for Lois's sake I thowt on it. To speak plain, yoh'll mind that Stokes affair, th' note Yare brought? Yes?
It's a bad life, Joe Yare's; I wish 'n' 't would be better to the end" He stopped with a wistful look at Holmes, who stood outwardly attentive, but with little thought to waste on Joe Yare. The old coal-digger drummed on the fire-plug uneasily. "Myself, 't was for Lois's sake I thowt on it. To speak plain, yoh'll mind that Stokes affair, th' note Yare forged? Yes?
But I hated religion, knowin' her. Well, ther's a day of makin' things clear, comin'." They had reached the corner now, and Polston turned down the lane. "Yoh'll think o' Yare's case?" he said. "Yes. But how can I help it," Holmes said, lightly, "if I am like my mother here?" putting his hand to his mouth. "God help us, how can yoh?
"A hard one, people say," said Holmes, after a pause, as they walked on. He had spoken half to himself, and received no answer. Some blacker shadow troubled him than old Yare's fate. "My mother was a hard woman, you knew her?" he said, abruptly. "She was just, like yoh. She was one o' th' elect, she said. Mercy's fur them, an' outside, justice. It's a narrer showin', I'm thinkin'."
The old man loosened his hold of Holmes's arm, looked up and down the street, uncertain, disappointed. "The law. Yes. That's right! Yoh're just man, Stephen Holmes." "And yet?" "Yes. I dun'no'. Law's right, but Yare's had a bad chance, an' he's tryin'. An' we're sendin' him to hell. Somethin' 's wrong. But I think yoh're a just man," looking keenly in Holmes's face.
"A hard one, people say," said Holmes, after a pause, as they walked on. He had spoken half to himself, and received no answer. Some blacker shadow troubled him than old Yare's fate. "My mother was a hard woman, you knew her?" he said, abruptly. "She was just, like yoh. She was one o' th' elect, she said. Mercy's fur them, an' outside, justice. It's a narrer showin', I'm thinkin'."
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