To John it was not so wild and incredible a dream as that her hand was still in his. She had not withdrawn it. No, his senses did not deceive him. He looked at it, gloved in his bare one. He held it still. He could not wait another moment. He must have it to keep always. Surely, surely fate had not thrown them together for nothing, beneath this veiled moon, among the silver trees! "Di," he said below his breath. "There is some one on the bank watching us," said Di, suddenly. John turned, and in the uncertain light saw a man's figure come deliberately out of the shadow of the trees to the bank above the ice. John gave a sharp exclamation. "What has he got in his hand?" said Di. He did not answer. He dropped her hand and moved suddenly away from her. The figure slowly raised one arm. There was a click and a snap. "Missed fire," said John, making a rush for the edge. But he turned immediately. He remembered his skates. Di screamed piercingly. In the distance came the crackling of fireworks, and the murmur of the delighted crowd. Would no one hear? The figure on the bank did not stir; only a little steel edge of light rose slowly again. There was a sharp report, a momentary puff of light in smoke, and John staggered, and began scratching and scraping the ice with his skates. Di raised shrieks that shook the stars, and rushed towards him. And the cruel moon came creeping out, making all things visible. "Go back," he gasped hoarsely. "Keep away from me. He will fire again." And he did so; for as she rushed up to John, and in spite of the strength with which he pushed her from him, caught him in her arms and held him tightly to her, there was a second report, and the muff hopped and ripped in her hand. She screamed again. Surely some one would come! She could hear the ringing of skates and voices. Torches were wheeling towards her. Lanterns were running along the edge. Good God! how slow they were! "Go back--go back!" gasped John, and his head fell forward on her breast. He seemed slipping out of her arms, but she upheld him clasped convulsively to her with the strength of despair. "Where?" shouted voices, half-way up the lake. She tried to shriek again, but only a harsh guttural sound escaped her lips. The man had not gone away. She had her back to him, but she heard him run a few steps along the frost-bitten bank, and she knew it was to make his work sure. John became a dead weight upon her. She struggled fiercely with him, but he dragged her heavily to her knees, and fell from her grasp, exposing himself to full view. There was a click. With a wild cry she flung herself down upon his body, covering him with her own, her face pressed against his. "We will die together! We will die together!" she gasped. She heard a low curse from the bank. And suddenly there was a turmoil of voices, and a rushing and flaring of lights all round her, and then a sharp cry like the fire-engines clearing the London streets.