They were crossing the evening westward into the night and Rain drove her lesson home to the white man's heart:
"Faith in all that is good is the soul's life, like sunshine to a plant, but doubt is the bleak wind which stops its growth, denial the frost which nips and withers it."
"I believe in you."
"The messenger is bad," she answered, "but the message is true, and He who sends it expects you to obey. Now, if I take you to your father, what sort of comfort do you bring to his bedside? Ah, you still dread death!"
"I do."
"A sore thing, parting with one's horse, eh?"
"It is all that."
"—with the animal one has ridden so hard, and loved so dearly."
"Aye, Rain. You love a horse as much as I do."
"Did it break your heart to leave your tired animal there in the guest lodge when you came with me?"