moved by you
now, and I will not talk with you now. You are beside yourself. I will
say good-day to you, Mr. Rand, and in a less passionate hour I will tell
you that you have judged me wrongly."

He gathered up his reins and slightly turned his horse. It had been
wiser to break into violent speech, or even to deal the other a blow. As
it was, the very restraint of his action was spark to gunpowder. Rand's
hand fell to a holster, drew and raised a pistol. Cary saw and flung out
his arm, swerving his horse, but too late. There was a flash and a
report. The reins dropped from Cary's grasp; he sank forward upon his
horse's neck, then, while the terrified animal reared and plunged, fell
heavily to earth and lay beside the stream with a ball through his
heart.

CHAPTER XXX

HOMEWARD

The frightened birds rose in numbers from the forest trees. Cary's
horse, with a snort of terror, reared and turned. Rand flung himself
from Selim and dashed forward to the black's bridle, but he was too
late. The horse clattered down the little strand, plunged into the
flashing water, and in another moment reached the opposite bank and tore
away along the river road.

The sound of hoofs died away. All sound seemed to die, that of the
stream, of the birds, of the air in the trees. It was as still as the
desert. Very quietly and subtly the outward world put itself in accord
with the inward; never again would sky or earth, tree or leaf or crystal
water, be what it was an hour ago. Life and the scenery of life had a
new aspect.

The murderer moved to the side of the murdered, knelt stiffly, and laid
his hand upon the heart. It, too, was still. Rand stood up. The pistol
was yet in his clasp; he swung his arm above his head and hurled the
weapon into the stream. A pace or two away was a smooth and rounded rock
like a giant pebble. He sat down upon it, locked his hands, and looked
about him. The sky was blue, the leaves were green, the sun shone hot,
the water was at its ancient song--whence, then, came the noxious
change, and what was the matter with the universe? Cary lay among the
stones, with head thrown back and one arm stretched out as though the
hand were pointing. The face was quiet, set in the icy beauty of death,
and young. There came a roll of thunder. Rand looked at his clasped
hands, opened them, and moved the right one slightly to and fro. There
was blood upon his coatsleeve--a great smear. He drew a sighing breath.
He fe