"So he didn't sacrifice me!" I cried.
"Not on your life!" Jack's hearty voice responded. "Edmund was too quick
for that."
"But only by a fraction of a second!" said Edmund, smiling.
"What happened, then?" I asked, my recollections coming back stronger and
stronger.
"A mighty good shot happened," said Jack. "The best I ever saw."
I looked inquiringly at Edmund. He saw that I could bear it, and he
began:
"When that fellow snatched you up and leaped inside the circle I had my
furs wrapped so closely around me, not anticipating any danger, that for
quite ten seconds I was unable to get out my pistol. I tore the garment
open just in time, for already he was pressing you against the accursed
altar with his spear poised. I didn't waste any time finding my aim, but
even as it was the iron point had touched you when the bullet crashed
through his brain. The shock swerved the weapon a little and you were
only wounded in the shoulder. You got a scratch which might have been
serious but for your Arctic coat. The fellow fell dead beside you, and
under the circumstances I felt compelled to shoot the other one also, for
he was insane with the delirium of their bloody rite, and I knew that our
lives would never be safe if he remained ready for mischief.
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