The wonder of McGurk grew and the sweat on his forehead seemed to be spreading a chill through his entire body.

He said: "I see.

You trust all to the cross, eh, Pierre?
The little cross under your neck ?" "It's gone," said Pierre le Rouge.

"Why should I use it against a night rider, McGurk?
Are you ready ?" And McGurk, not trusting his voice for some strange reason, nodded.
The two folded their arms.
But the white horse which had been pawing the stones only a moment before was now unusually quiet.

The very postures of the men seemed to turn him to stone, a beautiful, marble statue with the moonlight glistening on the muscles of his perfect shoulders.
At length he stirred.