She let him fold her in his caress, whispering happily, “I knew all the time you wouldn’t do it—I knew you wouldn’t hurt daddy, or anybody.”
A loud clap of thunder rolled and echoed over the mountains, and a splash of raindrops fell on their faces. Conrad looked at the dense black clouds and at the gray veil dropping athwart the mountains, and turned to Lucy with alarm in his face. “We must start back at once and ride down that canyon for all we’re worth! This storm is going to be a corker, but maybe we can beat the worst of it. I’ve done wrong to bring you so far—but I can’t regret it now, sweetheart!”
They started at a gallop down the long canyon road. The patter of big drops that had given them warning quickly increased to a steady, beating downpour that drenched them to the skin. An almost tangible darkness was sifting through the atmosphere. It filled the sky overhead, drifted down the ravine, and seemed to settle, making a thick twilight under the arching trees. Blinding zigzags of lightning slashed the clouds and played through the middle air, and a terrific roar and boom and rattle of thunder kept up in the mountains behind them and echoed back and forth between the walls of the gulch.
The creek was already rising, and each time they had to cross it they found its muddy torrent swifter and higher. The road was rocky, and in many places had been made slippery by the rain, and there were frequent steep inclines down which they dared not go at a rapid gait. They had put behind them hardly more than a third of the distance when Conrad, looking backward, saw a cloud of inky blackness settle and drop upon the earth. A deep, booming sound mingled with a deafening clap of thunder. The ground trembled. The horses quivered with fright and darted forward at a faster pace. Lucy saw Curtis’s face blench in the half darkness.
“What is it?” she asked, glancing backward anxiously.
“That was a cloudburst,” he answered in a tone that thrilled with comprehension. “It struck back there, just this side of our beautiful spot, and a mountain of water will soon come tearing down behind us. We’ve got to ride like the wind! Perhaps we can make the first road that crosses the ravine, and you can go up there while I ride on and warn the town.”
“No! I’ll ride on with you.”
“I can’t let you do that,” was his swift reply. “Are you frightened, dearest?”
“No,” she answered in a steady tone; “I’m not frightened at all. And I’m going to ride on with you. It would be easy to die with you, if we must—but I couldn’t live without you, now.”