Читать книгу Gallybird онлайн

16 страница из 87

"You injure me."

"No, I injure you not. But all these years I've been offering you a plaster for your soul, at least, and you'll have none of it."

"If you would again persuade to absolution, I must again remind you of the Apostle's word—'confess your sins one to another,' which means no sacerdotal monopoly but a brotherly exchange. You tell me your transgressions and I will tell you mine."

"You've told me yours till I'm sick of hearing 'em, and mine are for no man's ears. So there's an end on't. But, come now, we won't quarrel. I must be going. I came only to tell you my news, which I lay has made you more glad than sorry."

"No, indeed. I am truly sorry; though I shan't be long in the world to mourn your loss, and your reasons for going don't seem to me plain in Scripture."

Gervase opened his mouth to quote again from the Book of Samuel, but thought better of it.

"You will most likely live longer than any of us," he said, "and I trust my successor may persuade you where I've been unable. Now I must go, and I shall tell my man to make you the famous plaster he made for my horse and cured him of a running sore in thirty-six hours. Good day to 'ee."