Wilbur without a sound there beside the river; perhaps as Dick died he told the man who killed him about the lonely girl and this other man was white enough to help Mary.
"But all Mary ever saw of him was that second night when she thought that she saw a streak of white, traveling like a galloping horse, that disappeared over a hill and into the trees—"
"A streak of white—"
"Yes, yes! The white horse—McGurk!"
"McGurk!" repeated Pierre stupidly; then: "And you knew she would be going out to him when she left this house?"
"I knew—Pierre don't look at me like that—I knew that it would be murder to let you cross with McGurk. You're the last of seven—he's a devil—no man—"
"And you let her go out into the night—to him."
She clung to a last thread of hope: "If you met him and killed him with the luck of the cross it would bring equal bad luck on some one you love—on the girl, Pierre!"
He was merely repeating stupidly: "You let her go out—to him—in the night! She's in his arms now—you devil—you tiger—"
She threw herself down and clung about his knees with hysterical strength.
"Pierre, you shall not go. Pierre, you walk on my heart if you go!"
He tore the little cross from his neck and flung it into her upturned face.
