They skated round the island, and then slackened and stood still to look at the scene in the distance.
One of the bonfires just replenished leapt one instant lurid high, only to fall the next in a whirlwind of sparks, and cover the lake with a rush of smoke. Figures dashed in and out, one moment in the full glare of light, the next flying like shadows through the smoke.
"It is like a dream," said Di. "If it is one, I hope I shan't wake up just yet."
To John it was not so wild and incredible a dream as that her hand was still in his. She had not withdrawn it. No, his senses did not deceive him. He looked at it, gloved in his bare one. He held it still. He could not wait another moment. He must have it to keep always. Surely, surely fate had not thrown them together for nothing, beneath this veiled moon, among the silver trees!
"Di," he said below his breath.
"There is some one on the bank watching us," said Di, suddenly.
John turned, and in the uncertain light saw a man's figure come deliberately out of the shadow of the trees to the bank above the ice.
John gave a sharp exclamation.
"What has he got in his hand?" said Di.
He did not answer. He dropped her hand and moved suddenly away from her. The figure slowly raised one arm. There was a click and a snap.