The latter now began to perceive that he had made a false step, and he hurried through the crowded room towards the door, and was just passing 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.