human
Things falls out so different in this maze of a world from what man may count on.
gpt
How came it that you were here?
human
Blamed if I can tell 'e till I gather my wits together. 'Pears half a century or so since I comed; yet ban't above two hour agone.
gpt
You didn't come to see Sam Bonus, I suppose?
human
No fay! Never a man farther from my thought than him when I seed un poke up his carrot head under the moon. I was 'pon my awn affairs an' comed to see you. I wanted straight speech an' straight hitting; an' I got 'em, for that matter. An' fightin' 's gude for the blood, I reckon--anyway for my fashion blood.
gpt
You came to fight me, then?
human
I did--if I could make 'e fight.
gpt
With that gun?
human
With nought but a savage heart an' my two fistes. The gun belongs to Sam Bonus. Leastways it did, but 't is mine now--or yours, as the party most wronged.
gpt
Come this way and drink a drop of brandy before you go home. Glad you had some fighting as you wanted it so bad. I know what it feels like to be that way, too. But there wouldn't have been blows between us. My mind was made up. I wrote to Plymouth this afternoon. I wrote, and an hour later decided not to post the letter. I've changed my intentions altogether, because the point begins to appear in a new light. I'm sorry for a good few things that have happened of late years.
human
That's straight speech--if you mean it. I never knawed how 't was that a sportsman, same as you be, could keep rakin' awver a job an' drive a plain chap o' the soil like me into hell for what I done ten year agone.
gpt
Let the past go. Forget it; banish it for all time as far as you have the power. Blame must be buried both sides. Here's the letter upon my desk. I'll burn it, and I'll try to burn the memory often years with it. Your road's clear for me.
human
Thank you, said Blanchard, very slowly.
gpt
I lay I'll never hear no better news than that on this airth. Now I'm free--free to do how I please, free to do it undriven.