"Take out what ye need, and begone!" "I shall do nothing of the sort," replied Caius, his arms still folded.
The boy had come near enough to hear what was said, but he did not interfere.
"And why not ?" asked O'Shea, a jeer in his tones.
"Because I would not trust one of you not to kill me as soon as my back was turned." "And if your back isn't turned, and that pretty quick, too, ye'll not live many hours." "I prefer to die looking death in the face; but it'll be hard for the man who attempts to touch me." "Oh! ye think ye'll foight for it, do ye ?" asked O'Shea lightly; "but ye're mistaken there--the death ye shall doie will admit of no foighting on your part." "There is something more in all this business than I understand." Apart from the question whether he should die or live, Caius was puzzled to understand why his enemies had themselves fallen foul of the quicksand, or what connection the accident could have with the attack upon his life.

"There is more in this than I understand," he repeated loudly.
"Just so," replied O'Shea, imperturbable; "there is more than ye can understand, and I offer ye a free passage to a safe place.

Haven't ye wits enough about ye to take it and be thankful ?" "I will not turn my back." Caius reiterated his defiance.
"And ye'll stroike out with yer fist at whatever comes to harm ye?
Will ye hit in the face of the frost and the wind if ye're left here to perish by cold, with your clothes wet as they are?
or perhaps ye'll come to blows with the quicksand if half a dozen of us should throw ye in there." "There are not half a dozen of you," he replied scornfully.
"Come and see." O'Shea did not offer to touch him, but he began to walk towards the opening in the dune, and dragged Caius after him by mere force of words.

"Come and see for yourself.

What are ye afraid of, man?
Come! if ye want to look death in the face, come and see what it is ye've got to look at." Caius followed reluctantly, keeping his own distance.