CHAPTER VIII.
NELLY TO THE RESCUE.
| She never, never failed a friend, |
| And never feared a foe.—Nicholl. |
Help was at hand. There came a sound as of the rushing of tiny feet, and suddenly the little Skye terrier rushed into the cavern, and with joyous barks darted upon her mistress's bed; but instantly these barks of joy were changed into a howl of rage and pain, as she sprang at the throat of the robber, and closing her teeth upon his windpipe, hung there like "grim death."
With a yell of agony, the giant threw up his hands and seized the dog, to tear her off; but Nelly held fast. He might have torn her in two, but he could not have made her let go her hold upon his throat. He raised his huge fist to brain her.
"Don't hurt the dog," cried Sybil, starting up and seizing his arm; her palsy of terror dispelled by her love for her faithful little four-footed friend.
"Down, traitor and coward!" shouted another voice.
And all started and looked around to recognize the robber captain standing before them, with a pistol levelled straight at the head of his lieutenant.
"Call this brute off, then. She's cutting my throat with her cursed teeth. Call her off, I say, or I'll wring her in two, like a worm," gurgled the half-strangled monster, as he shook off the clasp of Sybil, and seized the little dog.
"Drop your hand, you villain, or I'll shoot you where you stand!" thundered the captain, cocking his pistol.