The Night Horseman

by Max Brand

  CHAPTER XVI

  THE COMING OF NIGHT

  It was not yet full dusk, for the shadows were still swinging out fromthe mountains and a ghost of colour lingered in the west, but midnightlay in the open eyes of Jerry Strann. There had been no struggle, nooutcry, no lifting of head or hand. One instant his eyes were closed,and then, indeed, he looked like death; the next instant the eyes open,he smiled, the wind stirred in his bright hair. He had never seemed sohappily alive as in the moment of his death. Fatty Matthews held themirror close to the faintly parted lips, examined it, and then drewslowly back towards the door, his eyes steady upon Mac Strann.

  "Mac," he said, "it's come. I got just this to say: whatever you do, forGod's sake stay inside the law!"

  And he slipped through the door and was gone.

  But Mac Strann did not raise his head or cast a glance after themarshal. He sat turning the limp hand of Jerry back and forth in hisown, and his eyes wandered vaguely through the window and down to theroofs of the village.

  Night thickened perceptibly every moment, yet still while the easternslope of every roof was jet black, the western slopes were bright, andhere and there at the distance the light turned and waned on upperwindows. Sleep was coming over the world, and eternal sleep had come forJerry Strann.

  It did not seem possible.

  Some night at sea, when clouds hurtled before the wind across the skyand when the waves leaped up mast-high; when some good ship staggeredwith the storm, when hundreds were shrieking and yelling in fear ordefiance of death; there would have been a death-scene for Jerry Strann.

  Or in the battle, when hundreds rush to the attack with one man in frontlike the edge before the knife--there would have been a death-scene forJerry Strann. Or while he rode singing, a bolt of lightning that slewand obliterated at once--such would have been a death for Jerry Strann.

  It was not possible that he could die like this, with a smile. There wassomething incompleted. The fury of the death-struggle which had beenomitted must take place, and the full rage of wrath and destruction mustbe vented. Can a bomb explode and make no sound and do no injury?

  Yet Jerry Strann was dead and all the world lived on. Someone canteredhis horse down the street and called gayly to an acquaintance, andafterwards the dust rose, invisible, and blew through the open windowand stung the nostrils of Mac Strann. A child cried, faintly, in thedistance, and then was hushed by the voice of the mother, making asound like a cackling hen. This was all!

  There should have been wailing and weeping and cursing and praying, forhandsome Jerry Strann was dead. Or there might have been utter anddreadful silence and waiting for the stroke of vengeance, for thebrightest eye was misted and the strongest hand was unnerved and thevoice that had made them tremble was gone.

  But there was neither silence nor weeping. Someone in a nearby kitchenrattled her pans and then cursed a dog away from her back-door. Not thatany of the sounds were loud. The sounds of living are rarely loud, butthey run in an endless river--a monotone broken by ugly ripples of noiseto testify that men still sleep or waken, hunger or feed. Another ripplehad gone down to the sea of darkness, yet all the ripples behind itchased on their way heedlessly and babbled neither louder nor softer.

  There should have been some giant voice to peal over the sleepingvillage and warn them of the coming vengeance--for Jerry Strann wasdead!

  The tall, gaunt figure of Haw-Haw Langley came on tiptoe from behind,beheld the dead face, and grinned; a nervous convulsion sent a longripple through his body, and his Adam's-apple rose and fell. Next hestole sideways, inch by inch, so gradual was his cautious progress,until he could catch a glimpse of Mac Strann's face. It was like theopen face of a child; there was in it no expression except wonder.

  At length a hoarse voice issued from between the grinning lips ofHaw-Haw.

  "Ain't you goin' to close the eyes, Mac?"

  At this the great head of Mac Strann rolled back and he raised hisglance to Haw-Haw, who banished the grin from his mouth by a viciouseffort.

  "Ain't he got to see his way?" asked Mac Strann, and lowered his glanceonce more to the dead man. As for Haw-Haw Langley, he made a long,gliding step back towards the door, and his beady eyes opened in terror;yet a deadly fascination drew him back again beside the bed.

  Mac Strann said: "Kind of looks like Jerry was ridin' the home trail,Haw-Haw. See the way he's smilin'?"

  The vulture stroked his lean cheeks and seemed once more to swallow hissilent mirth.

  "And his hands," said Mac Strann, "is just like life, except that they'sgettin' sort of chilly. He don't look changed, none, does he, Haw-Haw?Except that he's seein' something off there--away off there. Looks likehe was all wrapped up in it, eh?" He leaned closer, his voice fell to amurmur that was almost soft. "Jerry, what you seein'?"

  Haw-Haw Langley gasped in inaudible terror and retreated again towardsthe door.

  Mac Strann laid his giant hand on the shoulder of Jerry. He asked in araised voice: "Don't you hear me, lad?" Sudden terror caught hold ofhim. He plunged to his knees beside the bed, and the floor quaked andgroaned under the shock. "Jerry, what's the matter? Are you mad at me?Ain't you going to speak to me? Are you forgettin' me, Jerry?"

  He caught the dead face between his hands and turned it strongly towardshis own. Then for a moment his eyes plumbed the shadows into which theylooked. He stumbled back to his feet and said apologetically to Haw-Hawat the door: "I kind of forgot he wasn't livin', for a minute." Hestared fixedly at the gaunt cowpuncher. "Speakin' man to man, Haw-Haw,d'you think Jerry will forget me?"

  The terror was still white upon the face of Haw-Haw, but somethingstronger than fear kept him in the room and even drew him a slow steptowards Mac Strann; and his eyes moved from the face of the dead man tothe face of the living and seemed to draw sustenance from both. Hemoistened his lips and was able to speak.

  "Forget you, Mac? Not if you get the man that fixed him."

  "Would you want me to get him, Jerry?" asked Mac Strann. And he waitedfor an answer.

  "I dunno," he muttered, after a moment. "Jerry was always for fightin',but he wasn't never for killin'. He never liked the way I done things.And when he was lyin' here, Haw-Haw, he never said nothin' about megettin' Barry. Did he?"

  Astonishment froze the lips of Haw-Haw. He managed to stammer: "Ain'tyou going to get Barry? Ain't you goin' to bust him up, Mac?"

  "I dunno," repeated the big man heavily. "Seems like I've got no heartfor killing. Seems like they's enough death in the world." He pressedhis hand against his forehead and closed his eyes. "Seems like they'ssomething dead in me. They's an ache that goes ringin' in my head.They's a sort of hollow feelin' inside me. And I keep thinkin' abouttimes when I was a kid and got hurt and cried." He drew a deep breath."Oh, my God, Haw-Haw, I'd give most anything if I could bust out cryin'now!"

  While Mac Strann stood with his eyes closed, speaking his words slowly,syllable by syllable, like the tolling of a bell, Haw-Haw Langley stoodwith parted lips--like the spirit of famine drinking deep; joyunutterable was glittering in his eyes.

  "If Jerry'd wanted me to get this Barry, he'd of said so," repeated MacStrann. "But he didn't." He turned towards the dead face. "Look at Jerrynow. He ain't thinkin' about killin's. Nope, he's thinkin' about somequiet place for sleep. I know the place. They's a spring that come outin a holler between two mountains; and the wind blows up the valley allthe year; and they's a tree that stands over the spring. That's whereI'll put him. He loved the sound of runnin' water; and the wind'll be onhis face; and the tree'll sort of mark the place. Jerry, lad, would yelike that?"

  Now, while Mac Strann talked, inspiration came to Haw-Haw Langley, andhe stretched out his gaunt arms to it and gathered it in to his heart.

  "Mac," he said, "don't you see no reason why Jerry wouldn't ask you togo after Barry?"

  "Eh?" queried Mac Strann, turning.

  But as he turned, Haw-Haw Langley glided towards him, and behind him, asif he found it easier to talk when the fac
e of Mac was turned away. Andwhile he talked his hands reached out towards Mac Strann like one who isbegging for alms.

  "Mac, don't you remember that Barry beat Jerry to the draw?"

  "What's that to do with it?"

  "But he beat him bad to the draw. I seen it. Barry _waited_ for Jerry.Understand?"

  "What of that?"

  "Mac, you're blind! Jerry knowed you'd be throwing yourself away if youwent up agin Barry."

  At this Mac Strann whirled with a suddenness surprising for one of hisbulk. Haw-Haw Langley flattened his gaunt frame against the wall.

  "Mac!" he pleaded, "_I_ didn't say you'd be throwin' yourself away. Itwas Jerry's idea."

  "Did Jerry tell you that?" he asked.

  "So help me God!"

  "Did Jerry _want_ me to get Barry?"

  "Why wouldn't he?" persisted the vulture, twisting his bony handstogether in an agony of alarm and suspense. "Ain't it nacheral, Mac?"

  Mac Strann wavered where he stood.

  "Somehow," he argued to himself, "it don't seem like killin' is right,here."

  The long hand of Langley touched his shoulder.

  He whispered rapidly: "You remember last night when you was out of theroom for a minute? Jerry turned his head to me--jest the way he's lyin'now--and I says: 'Jerry, is there anything I can do for you?'"

  Mac Strann reached up and his big fingers closed over those of Haw-Haw.

  "Haw-Haw," he muttered, "you was his frien'. I know that."

  Haw-Haw gathered assurance.

  He said: "Jerry answers to me: 'Haw-Haw, old pal, there ain't nothin'you can do for me. I'm goin' West. But after I'm gone, keep Mac awayfrom Barry.'

  "I says: 'Why, Jerry?"

  "'Because Barry'll kill him, sure,' says Jerry.

  "'I'll do what I can to keep him away from Barry,' says I, 'but don'tyou want nothin' done to the man what killed you?'

  "'Oh, Haw-Haw,' says Jerry, 'I ain't goin' to rest easy, I ain't goin'to sleep in heaven--until I know Barry's been sent to hell. But forGod's sake don't let Mac know what I want, or he'd be sure to go afterBarry and get what I got.'"

  Mac Strann crushed the hand of Haw-Haw in a terrible grip.

  "Partner," he said, "d'you swear this is straight?"

  "So help me God!" repeated the perjurer.

  "Then," said Mac Strann, "I got to leave the buryin' to other men whatI'll hire. Me--I've got business on hand. Where did Barry run to?"

  "He ain't run," cried Haw-Haw, choking with a strange emotion. "Thefool--the damned fool!--is waiting right down here in O'Brien's bar foryou to come. He's _darin'_ you to come!"

  Mac Strann made no answer. He cast a single glance at the peaceful faceof Jerry, and then started for the door. Haw-Haw waited until the doorclosed; then he wound his arms about his body, writhed in an ecstasy ofsilent laughter, and followed with long, shambling strides.