With no apparent relevancy, and laying his hand on Faith's shoulder, he said: "We have done according to our conscience by Davy--God is our witness, so!" She leaned her cheek against his hand, but did not speak.
In Soolsby's hut upon the hill David sat talking to the old chair-maker.
Since his return he had visited the place several times, only to find Soolsby absent.

The old man, on awaking from his drunken sleep, had been visited by a terrible remorse, and, whenever he had seen David coming, had fled into the woods.

This evening, however, David came in the dark, and Soolsby was caught.
When David entered first, the old man broke down.

He could not speak, but leaned upon the back of a chair, and though his lips moved, no sound came forth.

But David took him by the shoulders and set him down, and laughed gently in his face, and at last Soolsby got voice and said: "Egyptian! O Egyptian!" Then his tongue was loosened and his eye glistened, and he poured out question after question, many pertinent, some whimsical, all frankly answered by David.