Straight to the black
horse she ran, swung into the saddle with the ease of a man, and rode
furiously off through the falling of the night.
He watched her with a curious closing of loneliness like a hand about
his heart. He had failed, and because of that failure even Jacqueline
was leaving him. It was strange, for since the loss of the girl of the
yellow hair and those deep blue eyes, he had never dreamed that
another thing in life could pain him.
So at length he mounted the mare again and rode slowly down the hill
and out toward the distant ranges, trotting mile after mile with
downward head, not caring even if McGurk should cross him, for
surely this was the final end of the world to Pierre le Rouge.
About midnight he halted at last, for the uneasy sway of the mare
showed that she was nearly dead on her feet with weariness. He found a
convenient place for a camp, built his fire, and wrapped his blanket
about him without thinking of food.
He never knew how long he sat there, for his thoughts circled the
world and back again and found all a prospect of desert before him and
behind, until a sound, a vague sound out of the night, startled him
into alertness.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212