She had drawn the knife out of its scabbard, and the cold steel glistened in her hand.

Her eyes were shining, and she reached out and clutched Peter close up against her, so that he could hear the choke and throb of her heart.
"Oh, Peter, Peter," she panted.

"If you could only talk! If you could run and catch Mister Roger, an' tell him I'm here, an' that he must come back--" She hugged him closer.

He sensed the sudden thrill that leapt through her body.
"Peter," she whispered, "will you do it ?" For a few moments she did not seem to breathe.

Then he heard a quick little cry, a sob of inspiration and hope, and her arms came from about him, and he saw the knife flashing in the yellow moonlight.
He did not understand, but he knew that he must watch her carefully.