Implacable hate looked out of her eyes.
'I have done with you,' she cried.

'You have scorned me, but you have dug your own grave.' She leaped on the parapet and the next second was on the glacis.

Once more the mist had fled, and across the hollow I saw a field-gun in place and men around it who were not Turkish.

She waved her hand to them, and hastened down the hillside.
But at that moment I heard the whistle of a long-range Russian shell.
Among the boulders there was the dull shock of an explosion and a mushroom of red earth.

It all passed in an instant of time: I saw the gunners on the road point their hands and I heard them cry; I heard too, a kind of sob from Blenkiron--all this before I realized myself what had happened.