In one of those murmurs they made their resolution. When
night came they would rush the rocks, storm them from the front, and
take their chance with what might follow. But the night promised to give
but little shelter to their stalking.
For in the late afternoon a broad moon was already climbing up from the
east; the sky was cloudless; there was a threat of keen, revealing
moonshine for the night. Only desperation could make them attempt to
storm the rock, but by the next morning, at the latest, reinforcements
were sure to come, and then their fight would be utterly hopeless.
So when the light of the sun mellowed, grew yellow and slant, and the
shadows sloped from tree to tree, the two became more silent still,
drawn and pale of face, waiting. Anthony at a window, Sally at a crack
which made an excellent loophole, they remained moveless.
It was she who noted a niche which might serve as a loophole for one of
the posse, and she fired at it, aiming low. The clang of the bullet
against rock echoes clearly back to her, like the soft chime of a sheep
bell from the peaceful distance.
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