ripping him by the throat, as he held the sword
he had seized before the startled Russian, my companion hissed in his
ear:--

"Yield, or you are a dead man!"

The Russian's face turned to a purple hue as he almost choked for
breath, then he muttered brokenly the exiled woman's name.

"She is living!" cried Denviers, as he lowered the point of the sword
till it touched the Russian's breast. "Swear that you will not attempt
to hinder her flight, and I will release your throat."

General Rachieff raised his hand in sign of assent, for his voice had
failed him. Denviers rose, whereupon the Russian staggered to his feet,
then, mad at his defeat, moved over to where his sledge was.

[Illustration: "HE RUSHED UPON HIS DEFENCELESS OPPONENT."]

"Get the woman into our sledge," cried Denviers to me. I started forward
to where Hassan was; we snatched up the exile and immediately drove off.

"After them, men!" cried Rachieff, caring nothing for his promise. "We
will take Marie Lovetski, or shoot her down!"

"Never trust a Russ, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he lashed our horses
on, while our enemies followed furiously behind. "The only way to secure
his silence would have been a sword thrust through the false one's
heart."

Away our sledge was whirled across the plain, faster and faster still,
yet Rachieff, whose horses were more numerous than our own, drew
gradually nearer. Marie Lovetski, who had forgotten her alarm now that
Denviers was safe, turned her pale-set countenance towards our pursuers,
and, as she did so, the report of a pistol rang out, while a bullet
whizzed past her head! I saw Rachieff holding the smoking weapon in his
hand as Denviers cried to me:--

"If he fires again, I will shoot him like the dog that he is!"

"No," cried Marie Lovetski, snatching a pistol from my sash before I
could prevent her. "Rachieff slew Somaloff, my lover, and I will avenge
him." She pointed the weapon full at the Russian, and I barely had time
to brush her arm aside before the frenzied exile fired. Fortunately, the
shot was deflected, and Rachieff was saved from the fate that he
certainly deserved.

"Shoot their horses!" exclaimed Denviers, and as our own dashed along he
leant over towards the pursuing sledge and fired at the foremost of
them. The animal reared for a moment, then fell dead, throwing the rest
into confusion. Out the Russians sprang, and cut the traces through, and
having in this way speedily managed to dis