"Were you, George?"
"Yes." Here George turned to look at me, and, looking, dropped
his eyes and fumbled with his hands, while up under his tanned
skin there crept a painful, burning crimson. "Peter!" said he.
"Yes, George?"
"I got summ'at more to tell 'ee--summ'at as I never meant to tell
to a soul; when you was down--lyin' at my feet--"
"Yes, George?"
"I--I kicked 'ee--once!"
"Did you, George?"
"Ay--I--I were mad--mad wi' rage an' blood lust, an'--oh, man,
Peter!--I kicked 'ee. Theer," said he, straightening his
shoulders, "leastways I can look 'ee in the eye now that be off
my mind. An' now, if so be you 'm wishful to tak' ye whack at
me--why, let it be a good un, Peter."
"No, I shall never raise my hand to you again, George."
"'Tis likely you be thinkin' me a poor sort o' man, arter what
--what I just told 'ee--a coward?"
"I think you more of a man than ever," said I.
"Why, then, Peter--if ye do think that, here's my hand--if ye'll
tak' it, an' I--bid ye--good-by!"
"I'll take your hand--and gladly, George, but not to wish you
goodby--it shall be, rather, to bid you welcome home again."
"No," he cried. "No--I couldn't--I couldn't abide to see you
an'--Prue--married, Peter--no, I couldn't abide it."
"And you never will, George. Prue loves a stronger, a better man
than I. And she has wept over him, George, and prayed over him,
such tears and prayers as surely might win the blackest soul to
heaven, and has said that she would marry that man--ah! even if
he came back with fetter-marks upon him--even then she would
marry him--if he would only ask her."
"Oh, Peter!" cried George, seizing my shoulders in a mighty grip
and looking into my eyes with tears in his own, "oh, man, Peter
--you as knocked me down an' as I love for it--be this true?"
"It is God's truth!" said I, "and look!--there is a sign to prove
I am no liar--look!" and I pointed towards "The Bull."
George turned, and I felt his fingers tighten suddenly, for
there, at the open doorway of the inn, with the early glory of
the morning all about her, stood Prue. As we watched, she began
to cross the road towards the smithy, with laggard step and
drooping head.