side.

So they went running together, silent, towards the vast wastes of
snow, where no living thing but they two moved under the stars of
night.

Never before had Christian so rejoiced in his powers. The gift of
speed, and the training of use and endurance were priceless to him
now. Though midnight was hours away, he was confident that, go
where that Fell Thing would, hasten as she would, she could not
outstrip him nor escape from him. Then, when came the time for
transformation, when the woman's form made no longer a shield
against a man's hand, he could slay or be slain to save Sweyn. He
had struck his dear brother in dire extremity, but he could not,
though reason urged, strike a woman.

For one mile, for two miles they ran: White Fell ever foremost,
Christian ever at equal distance from her side, so near that, now
and again, her out-flying furs touched him. She spoke no word; nor
he. She never turned her head to look at him, nor swerved to evade
him; but, with set face looking forward, sped straight on, over
rough, over smooth, aware of his nearness by the regular beat of
his feet, and the sound of his breath behind.

In a while she quickened her pace. From the first, Christian had
judged of her speed as admirable, yet with exulting security in
his own excelling and enduring whatever her efforts. But, when the
pace increased, he found himself put to the test as never had he
been before in any race. Her feet, indeed, flew faster than his;
it was only by his length of stride that he kept his place at her