He paused an instant; then said quietly:
'Ay, but I'll swear t' it easy enough. Fetch t' Book.'
She lifted the heavy, tattered Bible from the chimney-piece, and placed
it before him on the table. He laid his lumpish fist on it.
'Say,' she continued with a tense tremulousness, 'say, I swear t' ye,
mother, that 't is t' truth, t' whole truth, and noat but t' truth,
s'help me God.'
'I swear t' ye, mother, it's truth, t' whole truth, and nothin' but t'
truth, s'help me God,' he repeated after her.
'Kiss t' Book,' she ordered.
He lifted the Bible to his lips. As he replaced it on the table, he
burst out into a short laugh:
'Be ye satisfied noo?'
She went back to the chimney corner without a word. The logs on the
hearth hissed and crackled. Outside, amid the blackness the wind was
rising, hooting through the firs, and past the windows.
After a long while he roused himself, and drawing his pipe from his
pocket almost steadily, proceeded leisurely to pare in the palm of his
hand a lump of black tobacco.
'We'll be asked in church Sunday,' he remarked bluntly.
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