The distance to the point was nearly a mile. The white sand of the track guided them through the dark woods. "Shouldn't you be safer, after all, in the house?" Eve asked. "No, for this time he is determined to kill us; he thinks that I am some one else, a woman who is going to attack his wife; and he thinks that Jack is some other child, who has injured _his_ Jack." "He shall never touch Jack! Give him to me, Cicely; he is too heavy for you." "I will not give him to any one--any one," Cicely answered, panting. As they approached the north point, the moon shone through a rift in the clouds; suddenly it was as light as day; their faces and hands were ivory white in the radiance. "What is that on your throat, and down the front of your dress?" said Eve. "It's wet. Why, it's blood!" "Yes; I am cut here a little," Cicely answered, making a gesture with her chin towards her left shoulder; "I suppose it has begun to bleed again. He has a knife to-night. That is what makes me so afraid." The Sound now came into view. At the same instant Eve, looking back, perceived a point of yellow light behind them; the path was straight for a long distance, and the light was far away; but it was advancing in their direction. Little Jack, fully awakened by their rapid flight, had lifted his head, trying to see his mother's face; as no one paid any attention to him, he began to cry. His voice seemed to make Cicely frantic; clasping him close, pressing his head down against her breast, she broke into a run. "Get into the boat and push off, don't wait for me; _I'm_ in no danger," Eve called after her. She stood there watching. Cicely reached the beach, put Jack into the boat, and then tried to push it off. It was a heavy old row-boat, kept there for the convenience of the negroes who wished to cross to Singleton Island; to-night it was drawn up so high on the sands that with all her effort Cicely could not launch it. She strained every muscle to the utmost; in her ears there was a loud rushing sound; she paused dizzily, turning her head away from the water for a moment, and as she did so, she too saw the gleam, pale in the moonlight, far down the path. She did not scream, there was a tension in her throat which kept all sound from her parched mouth; she climbed into the boat, seized Jack, and staggered forward with the vague purpose of jumping into the water from the boat's stern; but she did not get far, she sank suddenly down. "She has fainted; so much the better," Eve thought. Jack, who had fallen as his mother fell, cried loudly. "He is not hurt; at least not seriously," she said to herself. Then, turning into the wood, she made her way back towards the advancing point of light. After some progress she stopped.