"But I did it for you, Nick. I knew you hated—"
"No, no! Don't say it!" He added bitterly, after a moment. "This is for my sins."
And then, to her: "But you knew about it and didn't warn him? You hated him all the time you were laughing with him and smiling at him? Oh, Nell! What a merciless witch of a woman you are! For the rest of them—I'll wait till they come back!"
"What are you going to do, Nick?"
"I told them I'd pay the man who killed Donnegan—with lead. Did the fools think I didn't mean it?"
Truly, no matter what shadow had passed over the big man, he was the lion again, and Nell shrank from him.
"We'll wait for them," he said. "We'll wait for them here."
And they sat down together in the room. She attempted to speak once in a shaken voice, but he silenced her with a gesture, and after that she sat and watched in quiet the singular play of varying expressions across his face. Grief, rage, tenderness, murderous hate—they followed like a puppet play.
What was Donnegan to him? And then there was a tremor of fear. Would the three suspect when they reached the shack by the ford and no Donnegan came to them? The moments stole on. Then the soft beat of a galloping horse in the sand. The horse stopped. Presently they saw Joe Rix and Harry Masters pass in front of the window. And they looked as though a cyclone had caught them up, juggled them a dizzy distance in the air, and then flung them down carelessly upon bruising rocks. Their hats were gone; and the clothes of burly Harry Masters were literally torn from his back. Joe Rix was evidently far more terribly hurt, for he leaned on the arm of Masters and they came on together, staggering.
"They've done the business!" exclaimed Lord Nick. "And now, curse them, I'll do theirs!"