r mind, San.
You did the best you could; don't bother. Swine are swine."

The rain was cooling Sanford's head, and he laughed awkwardly.

"Sorry I lost my temper."

"I'm not. Jennie's telling Onnie. Hear?"

The smith's long-legged daughter was gesticulating at the kitchen
trellis, and Onnie's feet began a sort of war-dance in the wet grass as
Rawling approached.

"Where is this sufferin' pig, could your honor be tellin' me? God be
above us all! With my name in his black, ugly mouth! I _knew_ there'd be
trouble; the snake's bells did be sayin' so since the storm was comin'.
An' him three times the bigness of Master San! Where'd he be now?"

"Jim gave him an hour to be off the property, Onnie."

"God's mercy he had no knife in his hand, then, even with the men by an'
Master San on his horse. Blessed Mary! I will go wait an' have speech
with this Englishman on the road."

"You'll go get dinner, Onnie Killelia," said Rawling. "Master San is
tired, Bill and Ling are coming--and look there!"

The faithful were marching Percival down the road to the valley-mouth in
the green dusk. He walked between Jansen and Bill, a dozen men behind,
and a flying scud of boys before.

"An' Robbie's not hurt," said Miss Cameron, "an' San ain't, neither; so
don't you worry, Onnie. It's all right."

Onnie laughed.

"I'd like well to have seen the whip fly, your Honor. The arm of him!
Will he be wantin' waffles to his dinner? Heyah! more trouble yet!" The
rattles had whirred, and she shook her head. "A forest fire likely now?
Or a child bein' born dead?"

"Father says she's fey," Jennie observed as the big woman lumbered off.

"You mean she has second sight? Perhaps. Here's a dollar for Robbie, and
tell Ian he's lucky."

* * *

Bill raced up as the rain began to fall heavily in the windless gray of
six o'clock. He reported the cockney gone and the men loud in admiration
of Sanford; so dinner was cheerful enough, although Sanford felt limp
after his first attack of killing rage. Onnie's name on this animal's
tongue had maddened him, the reaction made him drowsy; but Ling's winter
at Lawrenceville and Bill's in New York needed hearing. Rawling left the
three at the hall fireplace while he read a new novel in the library.
The rain increased, and the fall became a continuous throbbing so steady
that he hardly heard the telephone ring close to his chair; but old
Varian's voice came clear along the wire.

"Is that you, Bob? Now, l