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Horrocks's survey was cut short, however, for now the herd of cattle was tearing down upon him at a desperate racing pace. He saw the solitary rider gather up his lines and move his horse further away from the edge of the muskeg. Then the herd of cattle came along.
He was wondering if he were dreaming, so sudden and unexpected was the announcement of the disaster. When he halted at the bluff, the clerk was still discussing the affair with one of the troopers. As yet the other two were in their places of concealment, and were in ignorance of what had happened. "It's dead right," the clerk said, in answer to Horrocks's sharply-put inquiry.
He stood for some moments gazing with introspective eyes at the timepiece. He was thinking hard. He was convinced that what he had just heard was a mere fabrication, invented to cover some ulterior motive. That motive puzzled him. He had no fear for Horrocks's life. Horrocks wore the uniform of the Government.
Their eyes met and saw a thousand things in a moment that their lips came near to say. Horrocks's hand tightened and then relaxed. He let go, and before Raut was aware of it, they were arm in arm, and walking, one unwillingly enough, down the path.
She was too kindly for that too clever, tactful. After duly weighing the point at issue she found Horrocks's plans wanting, hence her unbelief, but, at the same time, her old heart palpitated with nervous excitement as might the heart of any younger and more hopeful of those in the know. As for the Allandales, it would be hard to say what they thought.
"Eh! what is it?" asked a deep, guttural voice, and a bulky form framed itself in the opening. The police-officer eyed the man keenly. The twilight had so far deepened that there was barely sufficient light to distinguish the man's features, but Horrocks's survey satisfied him as to the fellow's identity.
He was about to rap out an angry retort when a knock came at the partition door. It was Thompson. He had come to say that the troopers had returned, and wanted to see the sergeant. Also to say that Rodgers was with them. Horrocks immediately went out to see them, and, before John could say a word, Lablache turned on him. "Look here, John, for the present my lips are sealed. It is Horrocks's wish.
Rebecca is a droll funny creature, to be sure; and those descriptions of the poor lady weeping for the loss of her beauty, and the gentleman "with hay-coloured whiskers and straw-coloured hair," are very smart, doubtless, and show a great knowledge of the world. That she might, when on her knees, have been thinking of something better than Miss Horrocks's ribbons, has possibly struck both of us.
Years went on, and to the astonishment of their neighbours perhaps they were a little sorry there was no sign that Esther had a lover. Mrs. Horrocks's eyes were feline, but she was obliged to admit she was at fault.
Horrocks's face was serious as he looked over at the old lady. There was no laughter in his black, flashing eyes. He was not a man given to suavity. His business effectually crushed any approach to that sort of thing. He was naturally a stern man, too. "I am not quite mad, madam," he said curtly. "I set some value upon my life." This crushing rejoinder had no effect upon Aunt Margaret.
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