I was afraid.

I could not die--my hand was like a withered leaf; it could not strike; my heart poured out like water.

Once I struck a leper, that he might strike and kill me; but he lay upon the ground and wept, for all his anger, which had been great, died in him at last.

There was none other given to anger there.

The leper has neither anger, nor mirth, nor violence, nor peace.
It is all the black silent shame--and I was no leper." "Why didst thou come?
What is there but death for thee here, or anywhere thou goest! Kaid's arm will find thee; a thousand hands wait to strike thee." "I could not die there--Dost thou think that I repent ?" he added with sudden fierceness.