He turned neither to the right hand nor to the left, but ran on and on in a straight line, keeping one flying figure ever in view.
The flying figure seemed to know that some deadly pursuit was meant; for he, too, never turned nor swerved, but dashed on and on.
He gained the frozen lake; but the treacherous, slippery ice seemed to yield beneath his feet.

He had struck the lake at the point where it was broken up to obtain water for the fort.
A yell of horror escaped him.

He flung up his arms and disappeared.
But his pursuer dashed on and on, a wild laugh escaping him as he saw what had happened.

The next minute he was bending down over the yawning hole, and had put his long, strong arm through it into the icy water beneath.
He touched nothing.

The hapless man had sunk to rise no more.