“Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true. With astonishment, Gerald saw a rheumy film rimming his old commander’s eyes. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out. His face was white. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. "I merely asked the question," he said, after he had enjoyed the boy's suspense for a moment. " "He'll be hanged nevertheless," replied the Hollander, giving his collar an ugly jerk.
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