But it's true. If somebody else had told me
I'd of laughed at 'em. But it's true. Tell me: what'll you do
with him?"
"Take him back--if I can reach him--take him back to the East."
"Yes--maybe he'd be happy there. But when the spring comes to the
city, Mary, wait till the wind blows in the night and the rain comes
tappin' on the roof. Then hold him if you can. D'ye hear? Hold him
if you can!"
"If he cares it will not be hard. Tell me again, if--"
"Shut up. What's that again?"
The sound was closer now and unmistakably something other than the
moan of the wind.
Jacqueline turned in great excitement to Mary:
"Did McGurk hear that sound down the gorge?"
"Yes. I think so. And then he--"
"My God!"
"What is it?"
"Pierre, and he's calling for--d'you hear?"
Clear and loud, though from a great distance, the wind carried up the
sound and the echo preserved it: "McGurk!"
"McGurk!" repeated Mary.
"Yes! And you brought him up here with you, and brought his death to
Pierre. What'll you do to save him now? Pierre!"
She turned and fled out among the trees, and after her ran Mary,
calling, like the other: "Pierre!"
CHAPTER 37
After that call first reached him, clear to his ears though vague as a
murmur at the ear of Mary, McGurk swung to the saddle of his white
horse, and galloped down the gorge like a veritable angel of death.
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