y came with his long yellow
fingers to touch me, then timid, but reassured, crept back to his stool
in the corner.

Soon Nurse Panton joined us, her hair in corkscrews, looking very plain,
peevish because she had not been called at midnight. "What's the
matter?" she asked crossly, and for answer I pulled down the blinds. She
shivered as she passed the open door to take a chair behind it. She
begged me to close the door, but the night was warm, and besides I dared
not. Nurse and Chinaman each had a glass of port, and so did I, feeling
much better afterward.

An hour passed, the Chinaman nodding like those ridiculous mandarin
figures with loose heads, the nurse pallid against the gloom, staring
until she got on my nerves. I always disliked that woman with her
precise routine and large flat feet.

Far off I heard the thud of a gunshot, then three shots all together,
and afterward a fifth. The evil in the night was coming nearer, and I
said to myself, "If I were really frightened I should close that door.
I'm half a coward."

The hero himself had strung his Victoria Cross upon a riband which I
wore about my neck. Could I wear the cross and set an example of
cowardice to these poor creatures who crouched in the corners of the
room? To show fear is a privilege of the underbred. But I did long for
Jesse.

Through the murmurs of the nearer rain, I felt a throb in the ground,
then heard a sound grow, of a horse galloping. The swift soft rhythm,
now loud, now very faint again, then very near, echoed against the
barns, thundered across the bridge, splashed through the flooded yard,
and ceased abruptly.

Billy had come home from the Falls, he was stabling his roan, he was
crossing the yard in haste, his spurs clanked at the door-step and,
dreading his news, a sudden panic seized me. I fled behind the bar.

He entered, astream with rain, shading his eyes against the
candle-light; then as I moved he called out, as though I were at a
distance, begging me for brandy. His face was haggard, his hand as he
drank was covered with dried blood, he slammed the glass on the counter
so that it broke.

"You heard the shots?" he said.

"At Spite House?" I whispered.

He nodded.

"You were there?" I asked.

"Half a mile beyond. When I got there it was all dark. Looked in through
the end window, but the rain got down my neck, so I went round. The
front door was standing open. I listened a while. No need to get shot
myself. Thought