"Peter?" said he at last, speaking hardly above a whisper; "but
you 'm dead, Peter, dead--I killed--'ee."
"No," I answered, "you didn't kill me, George indeed, I wish you
had--you came pretty near it, but you didn't quite manage it.
And, George--I'm very desolate--won't you shake hands with a very
desolate man?--if you can, believing that I have always been your
friend, and a true and loyal one, then, give me your hand; if
not--if you think me still the despicable traitor you once did,
then, let us go into the field yonder, and if you can manage to
knock me on the head for good and all this time--why, so much the
better. Come, what do you say?"
Without a word Black George turned and led the way to a narrow
lane a little distance beyond "The Bull," and from the lane into
a meadow. Being come thither, I took off my coat and neckerchief,
but this time I cast no look upon the world about me, though indeed
it was fair enough. But Black George stood half turned from me,
with his fists clenched and his broad shoulders heaving oddly.
"Peter," said he, in his slow, heavy way, "never clench ye fists
to me--don't--I can't abide it. But oh, man, Peter! 'ow may I
clasp 'ands wi' a chap as I've tried to kill--I can't do it,
Peter--but don't--don't clench ye fists again me no more. I
were jealous of 'ee from the first--ye see, you beat me at th'
'ammer-throwin'--an' she took your part again me; an' then, you
be so takin' in your ways, an' I be so big an' clumsy--so very
slow an' 'eavy. Theer bean't no choice betwixt us for a maid
like Prue she allus was different from the likes o' me, an' any
lass wi' half an eye could see as you be a gentleman, ah! an'
a good un. An' so Peter, an' so--I be goin' away--a sojer--
p'r'aps I shan't love the dear lass quite so much arter a bit
--p'r'aps it won't be quite so sharp-like, arter a bit, but
what's to be--is to be. I've larned wisdom, an' you an' she
was made for each other an' meant for each other from the
first; so--don't go to clench ye fists again me no more, Peter."
"Never again, George!" said I.
"Unless," he continued, as though struck by a bright idea,
"unless you 'm minded to 'ave a whack at me; if so be--why, tak'
it, Peter, an' welcome. Ye see, I tried so 'ard to kill 'ee--so
cruel 'ard, Peter, an' I thought I 'ad. I thought 'twere for
that as they took me, an' so I broke my way out o' the lock-up,
to come an' say 'good-by' to Prue's winder, an' then I were
goin' back to give myself up an' let 'em hang me if they wanted
to."