# Riders of the Silences/Chapter 23

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CHAPTER XXIII
THE FEAR OF THE LIVING
But he only stared gravely up to her with such a sorrow that her heart went cold.
"Nothing—but I've remembered."
"What?"
"It's the cross. It brings luck and bad fortune together. Mary, I'll throw it away, now—and then—no, it makes no difference. We are done for."
"Pierre!"
"Don't you see, Mary, or are you still blind as I was ever since I saw you tonight? It's all in that name—Pierre."
"There nothing in it, Pierre, that I don't love."
He rose, and she with him. His head was bowed as if with the weight of the doom which he foresaw.
"You have heard of the wild men of the mountains, and the long-riders?"
He knew that she nodded, though she could not speak.
"I am Red Pierre."
"You!"
"Yes."
Yet he had the courage to raise his head and watch her shrink with horror. It was only an ​instant. Then she was beside him again, and one arm around him, while she turned her head and glanced fearfully back at the lighted schoolhouse. The faint music mocked them.
"And you dared to come to the dance? We must go. Look, there are horses! We'll ride off into the mountains, and they'll never find us—we'll——"
"Hush! One day's riding would kill you—riding as I ride."
"I'm strong—very strong, and the love of you, Pierre, will give me more strength. But quickly, for if they knew you, every man in that place would come armed and ready to kill. I know, for I've heard them talk. Tell me, are one-half of all the terrible things they say——"
"They are true, I guess."
"I won't think of them. Whatever you've done, it was not you, but some devil that forced you on. Pierre, I love you more than ever. Will you go East with me, and home? We will lose ourselves in New York. The millions of the crowd will hide us."
"Mary, there are some men from whom even the night can't hide me. If they were blind their hate would give them eyes to find me."
"Pierre, you are not turning away from me—Pierre!"
"God help me."
"He will. There's some ghost of a chance for us. Will you take that chance and come with me?"
He thought of many things, but what he answered was: "I will."
​"Then let's go at once. The railroad——"
"Not that way. No one in that house suspects me now. We'll go back and put on our masks again, and—hush, what's there?"
"Nothing."
"There is—a man's step.
And she, seeing the look on his face, covered her eyes in nameless horror. When she looked up a great form was looming through the dark, and then the voice of Wilbur came, hard and cold.
"I've looked everywhere for you. Miss Brown, they are anxious about you in the schoolhouse. Will you go back?"
"No—I——"
But Pierre commanded: "Go back."
So she turned, and he ordered again: "I think our friend has something to say to me. You can find your way easily. To-morrow——"
"To-morrow, Pierre?"
"Yes."
"I shall be waiting."
With what a voice she said it! And then she was gone.
He turned quietly to big Dick Wilbur, on whose contorted face the moonlight fell.
"Say it, Dick, and have it out in cursing me, if that 'll help."
The big man stood with his hands gripped hard behind him, fighting for self-control.
"Pierre, I've cared for you more than I've cared for any other man. I've thought of you like a kid brother. Now tell me that you haven't done this ​thing, and I'll believe you rather than my senses. Tell me you haven't come like a thief in the night and stolen the girl I love away from me; tell me——"
"If you keep on like that, you'll end by jumping at my throat. Hold yourself, Dick."
"I will if you'll tell me that you haven't——"
"I love her, Dick."
"Damn you! And she?"
"She'll forget me; God knows I hope she'll forget me."
"I brought two guns with me. Here they are."
He held out the weapons.
"Take your choice."
"Does it have to be this way?"
"If you'd rather have me shoot you down in cold blood?"
"I suppose this is as good a way as any."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. Give me a gun."
"Here. This is ten paces. Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Pierre. God forgive you for what you've done. She liked me, I know. If it weren't for you, I would have won her and a chance for real life again—but now—damn you!"
"I'll count to ten, slowly and evenly. When I reach ten we fire?"
"Yes."
"I'll trust you not to beat the count, Dick."
"And I you. Start."
​He counted quietly, evenly: "One, two, three, four, five six, seven, eight, nine—ten."
The gun jerked up in the hand of Wilbur, but he stayed the movement with his finger pressing still upon the trigger. The hand of Pierre had not moved.
He cried: "By God, Pierre, what do you mean?"
There was no answer. He strode across the intervening space dropped his gun, and caught the other by the shoulders. Out of the nerveless fingers of Pierre the revolver slipped and crushed a dead twig on the ground, and a pair of lifeless eyes stared up to Dick Wilbur.
"In the name of God, Pierre, what has happened to you?"
"Dick, why didn't you fire?"
"Fire? Murder you?"
"You shoot straight—I know—it would have been over quickly."
"What is it, boy? You look dead—there's no color in your face, no light in your eyes, even your voice is dead. I know it isn't fear. What is it?"
"You're wrong. It's fear."
"Fear and Red Pierre. The two don't mate."
"Fear of living, Dick."
"So that's it? God help you. Pierre, forgive me. I should have known that you had met her before, but I was mad, and didn't know what I was doing, couldn't think."
"It's over and forgotten. I have to go back and get Jack. Will you ride home with us?"
​"Jack? She's not in the hall. She left shortly after you went, and she means some deviltry. There's a jealous fiend in that girl. I watched her eyes when they followed you and Mary from the hall."
"Then we'll ride back alone."
"Not I. Carry the word to Jim that I'm through with the game. I'm going to wash some of the grime off my conscience and try to make myself fit to speak to this girl again."
"It's the cross," said Pierre.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. The bad luck has come to poor old Jim at last, because he saved me out of the snow. Patterson has gone, and now you, and perhaps Jack—well, this is good-by, Dick?"
"Yes."
Their hands met, a long, strong grip.
"You forgive me, Dick?"
"With all my heart, old fellow."
"I'll try to wish you luck. Stay close to her. Live clean for her sake and worship her like a saint. Perhaps you'll win her."
"I'll do what one man can."
"But if you succeed, ride out of the mountain-desert with her—never let me hear of it."
"I don't understand. Will you tell me what's between you, Pierre? You've some sort of claim on her. What is it?"
"I've said good-by. Only one thing more. Never mention my name to her."
​So he turned and walked out into the moonlight in the immaculate dress-suit and big Wilbur stared after him until he disappeared beyond the shoulder of a hill.