one which
not only seemed the best, but was most plentifully provided with the
deadly poison. This was speedily fitted to the string, and he
deliberately took aim, his nerves like steel, for the king had
whispered to him that he must not fail.

At the instant the string twanged, something caused Ariel to look
behind them.

She uttered a faint scream as she caught sight of the two crouching
figures. She descried a flitting shadow which she knew was the
approaching missile on its deadly mission.

Knowing that it was aimed at her lover, she threw both her arms around
his neck and interposed her body to protect him while he stood
bewildered, not comprehending what it all meant.

Her figure was too slight to serve the purpose of a shield. The
poisoned arrow whizzed straight at the breast of Ashman, who had turned
about, but instead of entering his body, the point, surcharged with
venom, was imbedded in the snowy arm of Ariel herself!

CHAPTER XXXIX.

CONCLUSION.

The horrified Fred Ashman saw that the poisoned arrow, aimed at his own
heart had buried itself in the fair arm of Ariel, as she clasped him
about the neck anxious to shield him from harm at the expense of her
own life.

She had saved him, but at what a fearful cost! The agonized lover
realized it all, as he tenderly placed her on the rock beside which
they were standing. Then, like the man who, knowing he has been
fatally struck by the rattlesnake or cobra, turns to stamp the life out
of the reptile, before looking after his own wound, he faced about and
brought his rifle to his shoulder. The dusky miscreant cowered low,
but he could not save himself, for the bullet which left the
Winchester, entering at the skull, ranged through the length of his
body, and he rolled off the ledge like a rotten log and went down the
yawning abyss that afforded a fit sepulture for such as he.

King Haffgo was standing erect, as if defying the white man to fire at
him. He had seen the result of the shot and he did not regret it.

"Die the death you deserve!" he called out in English; "for you are not
the daughter of Haffgo!"

Then he turned about and moved along the ledge, while Ashman stood for
an instant, with weapon levelled, feeling that the awful occurrence had
absolved him from the pledge made a short time before.

He was aiming, when a faint voice at his side said:

"No, hurt him not; _I shall get well_!"

Letting the rifle fall from his grasp,