If what
he saw was really White Fell, he guessed she was bending her steps
towards the open wastes; and there was just a possibility that, by
a straight dash, and a desperate perilous leap over a sheer bluff,
he might yet meet her or head her. And then: he had no further
thought.
It was past, the quick, fierce race, and the chance of death at
the leap; and he halted in a hollow to fetch his breath and to
look: did she come? had she gone?
She came.
She came with a smooth, gliding, noiseless speed, that was neither
walking nor running; her arms were folded in her furs that were
drawn tight about her body; the white lappets from her head were
wrapped and knotted closely beneath her face; her eyes were set on
a far distance. So she went till the even sway of her going was
startled to a pause by Christian.
"Fell!"
She drew a quick, sharp breath at the sound of her name thus
mutilated, and faced Sweyn's brother. Her eyes glittered; her
upper lip was lifted, and shewed the teeth. The half of her name,
impressed with an ominous sense as uttered by him, warned her of
the aspect of a deadly foe. Yet she cast loose her robes till they
trailed ample, and spoke as a mild woman.
"What would you?"
Then Christian answered with his solemn dreadful accusation:
"You kissed Rol--and Rol is dead! You kissed Trella: she is dead!
You have kissed Sweyn, my brother; but he shall not die!"
He added: "You may live till midnight.
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