On one side lay poor Magog Brand, lately so full of life and animation.
On the other was his assassin, felled by the dead man's best friend, the doughty Jefferson, and with scarcely more life in him than his victim.
And while the people were staring hopelessly at each other thus, a voice was heard giving the alarm hard by.
"Poor Brand, your murderer shall not escape," said Jefferson bitterly.
The noise continued, and presently the voice was recognised.
"It is Mole," cried Harkaway.
He was right.
Just then the poor old gentleman appeared upon the scene.
"Harkaway, Jefferson, Harvey!" he cried.
"What's the matter?"