pered.

"Iver come!" called Mehetabel.

Then through the illuminated haze, like an atmosphere of glow-worm's
light, himself black against a background of shining water, appeared
the young man.

Jonas had his teeth clenched; his breath hissed like the threat of
a serpent, as he drew a long inspiration through them.

"You are there!" shouted Iver, joyously, and ran forward.

She felt a thrill run through the barrel, on which she had laid
her hand; she saw a movement of the shoulder of Jonas, and was
aware that he was preparing to fire.

Instantly she snatched the gun to her, laid the muzzle against her
own side, and said: "Fire!" She spoke again. "So all will be well."

Then she cried in piercing tones, "Iver! run! run! he is here, and
he seeks to kill you."

Jonas sprang to his feet with a curse, and endeavored to wrest the
gun from Mehetabel's hand. But she held it fast. She clung to it
with tenacity, with the whole of her strength, so that he was unable
to pluck it away.

And still she cried, "Run, Iver, run; he will kill you!"

"Let go!" yelled Bideabout. He set his foot against Thor's Stone;
he twisted the gun about, he turned it this way, that way, to
wrench it out of her hands.

"I will not!" she gasped.

"It is loaded! It will go off!"

"I care not."

"Oh, no! so long as it shoots me."

"Send the lead into my heart!"

"Then let go. But no! the bullet is not for you. Let go, I say, or
I will brain you with the butt end, and then shoot him!"

"I will not! Kill me if you will!"

Strong, athletic, lithe in her movements, Mehetabel was a match for
the small muscular Jonas. If he succeeded for a moment in twisting
the gun out of her hands it was but for an instant. She had caught
the barrel again at another point.

He strove to beat her knuckles against Thor's Stone, but she was
too dexterous for him. By a twist she brought his hand against the
block instead of her own.

With an oath he cast himself upon her, by the impact, by the weight,
to throw her down. Under the burden she fell on her knees, but did
not relinquish her hold on the gun. On the contrary she obtained
greater power over it, and held the barrel athwart her bosom, and
wove her arms around it.

Iver was hastening to her assistance. He saw that some contest was
going on, but was not able to discern either with whom Mehetabel
was grappling nor what was the meaning of the struggle.

In his attempt to approach, Iver was regardles