Two things happened then, interrupting the boy’s wild language. The _joran_ reached the village and struck it; the houses shook, the trees bent double, and the cloud of limestone dust, painting the darkness white, swept on between Hendricks and the boy with extraordinary force, even separating them. There was a clatter of falling tiles, of banging doors and windows, and then a burst of icy rain that fell like iron shot on everything, raising actual spray. The air was in an instant thick. Everything drove past, roared, trembled. And, secondly--just in that brief instant when man and boy were separated--there shot between them with shadowy swiftness the figure of a man, hatless, with flying hair, who vanished with running strides into the darkness of the village street beyond--all so rapidly that sight could focus the manner neither of his coming nor of his going. Hendricks caught a glimpse of a swarthy, elemental type of face, the swing of great shoulders, the leap of big loose limbs--something rushing and elastic in the whole appearance--but nothing he could claim for definite detail. The figure swept through the dust and wind like an animal--and was gone. It was, indeed, only the contrast of Lord Ernie’s whitened skin, of his graceful, half-elegant outline, that enabled him to recall the details that he did. The weather-beaten visage seemed to storm away. Bindy’s delicate aristocratic face shone so pale and eager. But that a real man had passed was indubitable, for the boy made a flurried movement as though to follow. Hendricks caught his arm with a determined grip and pulled him back. ‘Who was that? Who was it?’ Lord Ernie cried breathlessly, resisting with all his strength, but vainly. ‘Some mountain fellow, of course. Nothing to do with us.’ And he dragged the boy after him down the road. For a second both seemed to have lost their heads. Hendricks certainly felt a gust of something strike him into momentary consternation that was half alarm. ‘From up there, where the fires are?’ asked the boy, shouting above the wind and rain. ‘Yes, yes, I suppose so. Come along. We shall be soused. Are you mad?’ For Bindy still held back with all his weight, trying to turn round and see. Hendricks used more force. There was almost a scuffle in the road. ‘All right, I’m coming. I only wanted to look a second. You needn’t drag my arm out.’ He ceased resistance, and they lurched forward together. ‘But what a chap he was! He went like the wind. Did you see the light streaming out of him--like fire?’ ‘Like what?’ shouted Hendricks, as they dashed now through the driving tempest. ‘Fire!’ bawled the boy. ‘It lit me up as he passed--fire that lights but does not burn, and wind that blows the world along----’ ‘Button your coat and run!’ interrupted the other, hurrying his pace, and pulling the lad forcibly after him.