turn were pursued, did not expect an attack from the rear. The men
remaining on horseback shouted an alarm to their comrades, but so
intent were the latter in their pursuit that they did not hear. One of
the men on foot fell dead, pierced through the back of the neck by
Brandon's sword, before either was aware of his presence. The other
turned, but was a corpse before he could cry out. The girls had
stopped a short distance ahead, exhausted by their flight. Mary had
stumbled and fallen, but had risen again, and both were now leaning
against a wall, clinging to each other, a picture of abject terror.
Brandon ran to the girls, but by the time he reached them the two men
on horseback were there also, hacking away at him from their saddles.
Brandon did his best to save himself from being cut to pieces and the
girls from being trampled under foot by the prancing horses. A narrow
jutting of the wall, a foot or two in width, a sort of flying
buttress, gave him a little advantage, and up into the slight shelter
of the corner thus formed he thrust the girls, and with his back to
them, faced his unequal foe with drawn sword. Fortunately the position
allowed only one horse to attack them. Two men on foot would have been
less in each other's way and much more effective. The men, however,
stuck to their horses, and one of them pressed the attack, striking at
Brandon most viciously. It being dark, and the distance deceptive, the
horseman's sword at last struck the wall, a flash of sparks flying in
its trail, and lucky it was, or this story would have ended here.
Thereupon Brandon thrust his sword into the horse's throat, causing it
to rear backward, plunging and lunging into the street, where it fell,
holding its rider by the leg against the cobble-stones of a little
gutter.

A cry from the fallen horseman brought his companion to his side, and
gave Brandon an opportunity to escape with the girls. Of this he took