She kept straight on with her soothing words; and, in the half-shadow, neither Merode nor Lanisterre could see that one hand was lost in the folds of her skirt.
"Ceddie, darling, let Miss Lorne be able to tell mummie that her little man was a hero; that he died, as heroes always die, without a fear or a weakening to the very last.

I'll stand by you, precious; I'll hold your hand; and, when the time comes--" It came then! The gateless archway was reached at last; and the thing she had been planning all along now became possible.

With one sudden push she sent the boy reeling down the incline into the dry water-course, flashed round sharply, and before Merode really knew how the thing happened, she was standing with her back to the arch and a revolver in her levelled hand.
"Throw up your arms--throw them up at once, or, as God hears me, I'll shoot!" she cried.

"Run, Ceddie--run, baby! He shan't follow you--I'll kill him if he tries!" "You idiot!" began Merode, and made a lurch toward her.

But the pistol barked, and something white-hot zigzagged along his arm and bit like a flame into his shoulder.
"Up with your hands--up with them!" she said in a voice that shook with excitement as he howled out and made a reeling backward step.