Ben and Beatrice had talked softly at first, accepting their fate at last and trying to forget all things but the fact of each other's presence. They had kept the faith to-night, they had both been true; and perhaps they had conquered, in some degree, the horror of death. His right hand held hers close to his lips, and only she could understand the message in its soft pressure, and the gentle, kindly shadows in his quiet eyes. But presently her gaze fastened on some object in the grass beside him. He did not understand at first. He knew enough not to attract his enemies' attention by trying to turn. The girl relaxed again, but her hand throbbed in his, and her eyes shone somberly as if the luster of some strange, dark hope. "What is it?" he asked whispering. "I see a way out--for us both," she told him. She knew he would not misunderstand and dream that she saw an actual avenue to life and safety. "Don't give any sign." "Then hurry," he urged. "They may be back any instant. What is it?" "A way to cheat 'em--to keep them from torturing you--and to save me--from all the things they'll do to me--when you're dead. Oh, Ben--you won't fail me--you'll do it for me." He smiled, gently and strongly. "Do you think I'd fail you now?" "Then reach your good arm on the other side--soft as you can. There's a knife lying there--your own knife--they knocked out of my hand. They'll jump at the first gleam. You know what to do--first me, in the throat--then yourself." His face showed no horror at her words. They were down to the most terrible realities; and as she had said, this was the way out! The great kindness still dwelt in his eyes--and she knew he would do as she asked. One gleam of steal, one swift touch at the throat--and they would never know the unspeakable fate that their depraved captors planned for them. _It was no less than victory in the last instant of despair!_ It was freedom: although they did not know into what Mystery and what Fear the act would dispatch them, it was freedom from Ray and Chan, none the less. And Ben welcomed the plan as might a prisoner, waiting in the death-cell, welcome a reprieve. He turned, groping with his hand. There was no use of waiting longer. The knife lay just beyond his reach; and softly he moved his body through the grass. But this gate to mercy was closed before they reached it. A sudden flaring of the fire revealed them--the gleam of the blade and Ben's stretching hand--and Ray left his log in a swift, catlike leap. If Ben had possessed full use of both hands there still might have been time to send home the two crucial blows, or at least to dispatch Beatrice out of Ray's power to harm. But his injured arm impeded him, and his hand fumbled as he tried to seize the hilt. With a sharp oath Ray crushed the blade into the ground with his heel; then kicked viciously at the prone body of his enemy.