f the coming horseman, and at the same
instant the whistling leaped close upon them. It was as if the whistling
man had disappeared at the place where the rain swallowed his form, and
had taken body again at their very side. Mac Strann shrank back against
the wall, bracing his shoulders, and gripped the butts of his guns. But
Haw-Haw Langley cast a frightened glance on either side; his head making
birdlike, pecking notions, and then he leaned over the pommel of his
saddle with a wail of despair and spurred off into the rain.

CHAPTER XL

THE ARROYO

He disappeared, instantly, in that shivering curtain of greyness. Mac
Strann sat by the ruined house alone.

Now, in a time of danger a child will give courage to the strong man.
There is a wonderful communion between any two in time of crisis; and
when Haw-Haw Langley disappeared through the rain it was to Mac Strann
as it was to Patroclus when Apollo struck the base of his neck and his
armour of proof fell from him. Not only was there a singular sense of
nakedness, but it seemed to him also that the roaring of the rain became
a hostile voice of threatening at the same instant.

He had never in his life feared any living thing. But now there was a
certain hollowness in the region of his stomach, and his heart fluttered
like a bird in the air, with appalling lightness. And he wished to be
far away.

With a clear heaven above him--ay, that would be different, but God had
arranged this day and had set the earth like a stage in readiness for a
death. And that was why the rain lashed the earth so fiercely. He looked
down. After his death the wind would still continue to beat that muddy
water to foam. Ay, in that very place all would be as it was at this
moment. He would be gone, but the sky and the senseless earth would
remain unchanged. A sudden yearning seized him for the cabin among the
mountains, with the singing of the coffee pot over the fire--the good,
warm, yellow fire that smoked between the rocks. And the skins he had
left leaning against the walls of the cabin to dry--he remembered them
all in one glance of memory.

Why was he here, then, when he should have been so far away, making his
roof snug against this torrent of rain. Now, there would be no rain,
surely, in those kindly mountains. Their tall peaks would shut out the
storm clouds. Only this plain, these low hills, were the place of hell!

He swung the head of his horse to one side, drove deep t