gth
generated by the crisis hurled him into the snow. She did not see where
he fell--the sledge was moving far too fast for that; but she heard the
sound of the concussion, and then frantic screaming, accompanied by
howls of triumph and joyful yapping. There was a momentary lull--only
momentary--and then the patting footsteps recommenced.

Nearer and nearer they came, until she could hear a deep and regular
pant, pant, pant, drowned every now and then by prolonged howls and
piercing, nerve-racking whines. Once again two murder-breathing forms
are racing along at the side of the sledge, biting and snapping at the
horse's legs with their gleaming, foam-flecked jaws.

"George," Liso shouted, "you must go now. You are a boy, and boys and
men should always die to save their sisters." But George, though
younger, was not so easy to dispose of as Charles. Charles had been
taken unawares, but George guessed what was coming and was on his guard.

"No, no," he cried, clinging on to the sledge with both his chubby
hands. "The wolves will eat me! Take sissy."

"Wretch!" shrieked Liso, boxing his ears furiously. "Selfish little
wretch! So this is the result of all the kindness I have lavished on
you. Let go at once"--and tearing at his baby wrists with all her
might, she succeeded in loosening them, and the next instant he was in
the road.

Then there was a repetition of what had happened before--a few wild
screeches, savage howls of triumph, and snarls and grunts that suggested
much. Then--comparative quiet, and then--patterings. Mad with fear, Liso
stood up and lashed the horse. God of mercy! there was now only one more
life between hers and the fate that, of all fates in the world, seemed
to her just then to be the most dreadful. With the thick and gloomy
forest before and behind her, and the nearer and nearer trampling of her
ravenous pursuers, she almost collapsed from sheer anguish; but the
thought of all her beauty perishing in such an ignominious and painful
fashion braced her up. Perhaps, too--at least, let us hope
so--underlying it all, though so much in the background, there was a
genuine longing to save the little mite--her exact counterpart, so
people said--that nestled its sunny head in the folds of her soft and
costly sealskin coat.

She did not venture to look behind her, only in front--at the seemingly
never-ending white track; at the dense mass of trees--trees that shook
their heads mockingly at her as the wi