But I came out of the pickle, and
lived to make the men that put me there sorry they had been born. Ay,
and I've seen my grave dug, and my dead clothes ready, and in a week I
was making napkins out of them. There's a wonderful kindness in
Providence to mettled folk."
"Ay, Ringan, but that was only the risk of your own neck. I think I
could endure that. But was there ever another you liked far better than
yourself, that you had to see in deadly peril?"
"No. I'll be honest with you, there never was. I grant you that's the
hardest thing to thole. But you'll keep a stiff lip even to that,
seeing you are the braver of the two of us."
At that I cried out in expostulation, but Ringan was firm.
"Ay, the braver by far, and I'll say it again. I'm a man of the dancing
blood, with a rare appetite for frays and forays. You are the sedate
soul that would be happier at home in the chimney corner. And yet you
are the most determined of the lot of us, though you have no pleasure
in it. Why? Just because you are the bravest. You can force yourself to
a job when flesh and spirit cry out against it. I let no man alive cry
down my courage, but I say freely that it's not to be evened with
yours."
I was not feeling very courageous.
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