"I thought perhaps you might know of a man whom I am seeking--a man by the name of Michael O'Doone." She did not expect him to speak again.

She drew her heavy coat about her and turned her face toward the window.

There was nothing that he could say, nothing that he could do, and he went back to Father Roland.
He was in the last coach when a sound came to him faintly.

It was too sharp for the wailing of the storm.

Others heard it and grew suddenly erect, with tense and listening faces.