"Think! Have you never loved someone you should have hated? Or held on to something you were told you must surrender? We share the same needs, the worst of us, as we share the same flesh. Stephen. You and I, we've got to trust each other. We've got to get them out." "While you hold the gun, and I dig the grave?" "No." Michael opened his coat, and tucked the pistol once more beneath his belt. "Come back to the house with me now---don't try anything foolish---and I'll find you something to eat. By rights I should dig this grave myself." "And the horse?" "I will use it to bear the body, and keep it close to me at all times. I said trust, Stephen, not stupidity. Trust isn't blind, any more than faith is, if it's real." "Faith in what? In God? You're dreaming." "Call it God, or Life, or anything else you like. I haven't given up on it. Because no matter how close I've come to it, Death has never had the final word. My flesh still lives, and therefore my hope. Maybe I am dreaming. But without dreams a man's got nothing, nothing at all." Stephen looked down, undecided. "So what's to keep me from walking out, except the threat of a shot in the back?" "I won't shoot you. If you want to walk out into hostile country, a wanted man, that's up to you. But I wouldn't give a ha'penny for your life, if you run afoul of that man Ballard. At least you know, or you should, that I'm an honorable man." "You speak of honor," said Stephen, "and trust. And yet you won't even tell me your name. Don't I deserve that much?" "I will tell you that when we have set them free, along with anything else you like. I don't ask you to understand that, just accept it. Anonymity is my one defense. That's the way it is." ... "I need time to think," said Stephen finally. "And you shall have it. After I finish here I've got a long ride ahead of me, to make preparations. You shall have most of the day. But whatever you decide, we must be gone from here tonight. If I know human nature, your Ballard won't send anyone to relieve his comrade, or come himself, till tomorrow at least. Be we can't take that chance." "And what if he comes back today? You're not going to bind me, and leave me here without a weapon?" "I'm not going to bind you at all. As for a weapon, you've got surprise. And you've got something far more lethal. The human mind, and will to survive, are not to be underestimated." He shaded his eyes and looked up, saw the sun already approaching the noon. "Enough of this. You've got to eat, and then think. I've got to work." Without further speech, they set out for the cottage. But as Stephen passed the grave of Michael Scott, he could not help but wonder at the identity of his worn but indomitable deliverer. And looking back to the place where Stubb would lie, who but a day before had walked and breathed, been proud, and stubborn, and afraid like himself, he felt a cold shudder run through him. For he, too, had been given a taste of Death. Twenty-Nine