The moon was at times obscured by flying clouds, the _avant-couriers_ of the regular evening shower.

He was stooping over the well, when he sprang suddenly to his feet again.

"Who's there ?" he demanded sharply.
"Hush!" said a voice so low and faint it might have been a whisper of the wind in the palisades of the corral.

But, indistinct as it was, it was the voice of a man he was thinking of as far away, and it sent a thrill of alternate awe and pleasure through his pulses.
He glanced quickly round.

The moon was hidden by a passing cloud, and only the faint outlines of the house he had just quitted were visible.
"Is that you, Spence ?" he said tremulously.
"Yes," replied the voice, and a figure dimly emerged from the corner of the corral.
"Lay low, lay low, for God's sake," said Patterson, hurriedly throwing himself upon the apparition.