ead the service to the
lounging, unkempt congregation, he had prayed over them, he had
preached at them. He had done all these things because it was his duty
to do so, but he had done them without the least hope of improving the
morals of his unworthy flock, or of penetrating one single fraction
through their crime-stained armor of self-satisfaction. Rocky Springs
was one of the shadowed corners upon his tour, into which, he felt,
it was beyond his power to impart light.

There were those in the valley who viewed the Sabbath calm with a
derisive smile. There were those who sat upon their little verandas
and smoked, and talked in hushed voices, lest listening ears might
catch the ominous purport of their words. There were others who went
to their beds with a shrug of pretended indifference, feeling glad
that for once, at least, their homes were a haven of safety for
themselves.

Rocky Springs as a whole knew that something was afoot--some play in
which some one was to be worsted, in which, maybe, a life or two would
be lost. Anyway, the players were Law _versus_ Outlaw, and those who
were not actually concerned with the game felt glad that they still
had another night under their own roofs.

It was truly extraordinary how unspoken news spread. It was
extraordinary the scent of battle, the scent of a struggle against the
law, that was possessed by this people. Everybody seemed to know that
to-night something like history was to be made in the annals of the
crime of the valley.

So the peace of the valley was almost remarkable. An undoubted air of
studied indifference prevailed, but surely it was carefully studied.

Neither Fyles nor any of his police had been seen the whole day. None
of them had attended divine service. It was almost as if they had
entirely vanished from the precincts of the valley.

So the sun sank, and the ruddy clouds rose up from the west like the
fiery splash of the molten contents of the cauldron into which the
great ball of fire had plunged. They rose up, and then dispersed,
vanishing into thin air, and making way for the soft sheen of a myriad
stars, and leaving clear a perfect night for the great summer moon to
illuminate.

* * * * *

Two by two a large number of horsemen rode out of the valley of
Leaping Creek. Once away from the starting point, their movements,
their figures became elusive and shadowy. They passed out from among
the trees, on to the wid