Damie declared that he would not tell his heartless sister a word more;
and it was only after some time that she got from him a detailed account
of his travels and fortunes, and of how he had at last come back to the
old world as a stoker on a steamboat. While she reproved him for his
self-tormenting touchiness, she became conscious that she herself was
not entirely free from that fault. For, as a result of her almost
exclusive association with Black Marianne, she had fallen into the habit
of thinking and talking so much about herself, that she had acquired a
desponding way. And now that she was called upon to cheer her brother
up, she unconsciously exerted a similar influence upon herself. For
herein lies the mysterious power of cooperation among men, that when we
help others we are also helping ourselves.
"We have four sound hands," she said in conclusion, "and we'll see if we
cannot fight our way through the world together. And to fight your way
through is a thousand times better than to beg your way through. And
now, Damie, come with me--come home."
Damie did not want to show himself in the village at all; he dreaded the
jeering that would be vented upon him from all sides, and preferred to
remain concealed for the present. But Barefoot said:
"You go with me now--on this bright Sunday; and you must walk right
through the village, and let the people mock at you, let them have their
say, let them point and laugh.
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