I shook my head. "I am saving the last second in which to die," I replied. "Until then I shall not admit that there is ever to be a last second for me, and then it will be too late to matter."
"I admire your courage if not your reasoning," said Nalte, the ghost of a smile on her lips. "But at least it will be a quick death—did you see how that fellow tore at the throat of the first one you shot? It is better than what Skor would have done to us."
"At least we shall be dead," I observed.
"Here they come!" cried Nalte.
They were closing in on us now from three sides. Arrow after arrow I drove into them, nor once did I miss my mark; but they only stopped those that I hit—the others slunk steadily forward.
They were almost upon us as I loosed my last arrow. Nalte was standing close beside me. I put an arm about her.
"Hold me close," she said. "I am not afraid to die, but I do not want to be alone—even for an instant."
"You are not dead yet, Nalte." I couldn't think of anything else to say. It must have sounded foolish at such a time, but Nalte ignored it.
"You have been very good to me, Carson," she said.
"And you have been a regular brick, Nalte, if you know what that means—which you don't."