out, when a dwarfed and ugly figure leaped upon him.

So sudden was the attack that Mathias was capsized, and together they
rolled upon the floor.

"Let go!" said the Greek fiercely, "or I'll--"

"Not me!" exclaimed Magog Brand--for he was the Greek's assailant. "I
know you, my yellow-feathered devil, even though you have shed your
skin!"

"Let go," hissed the Greek brigand, with compressed lips, "or I'll have
your life!"

"I'll not let go," cried the brave little Brand. "I have got you,
villain, and will hold you. Ah!"

Mathias scrambled up, and tried to fly, but he was met with a blow from
Jefferson's fist which might have felled an ox in the shambles.

He dropped lifeless on the ground beside Magog,

And then a sudden outcry arose, for it was found that in that brief
struggle poor Magog Brand had been cruelly used.

A long-bladed poignard was buried up to the hilt in his side.

Poor Brand.

Death must have been almost instantaneous.