he felt a hand close on his throat, and struck out with his skean.

One of the rowers gurgled and fell back, and Brian rolled over just as
steel sank into his side. Giddy and still breathless, he gained his
knees to find the Dark Master thrusting at him from the stern, while at
his side the other rower was rising. Brian brought up his fist, caught
the man full on the chin, and drove him backward over the gunwale. The
lurch of the boat flung the Dark Master forward, Brian felt a sickening
wrench of pain as the sword pierced his shoulder and tore loose from
O'Donnell's hand, then he had clutched his enemy's throat, and his skean
went home.

Spent though both men were, the sting of the steel woke the Dark Master
to a burst of energy. As the two fell over the thwarts, he twisted above
and bore Brian down and tried to break the grip on his throat, but could
not. For the second time in his life Brian felt that he had a wild
animal in his grasp; the sight of the snarling face, the venomous black
eyes, and the consciousness that his own strength was slowly ebbing, all
roused him to a last great effort.

The smoke-pall had shut out everything but that wolfish face, and as he
writhed up even that seemed to dim and blur before his eyes, so that in
desperate fear he struck out again and again, blindly. The blows fell
harmless enough, for all his strength was going into that right hand of
his; he did not know that his fingers were crushing out the Dark
Master's life, that O'Donnell's face was purple and his hands feebly
beating the air.

Brian knew only that the terrible face was hidden from him by some loss
of vision, some horrible failure of sight due to his weakness. Suddenly
there was a great crash at his side, and he thought that a huge ax with
iron twisted around its haft had fallen from the sky and sheared away
half the gunnel of the boat. He struck out again with his skean, and
felt the blow go home--and with that there came a terrific, blinding
roar. The smoke-veil was rent apart by a sheet of flame, Brian realized
that the burning ship must have blown up, and then a blast of hot wind
drove down against him and smote his senses from him.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE STORM OF MEN COMES TO REST.

"Very well, Turlough. Tell Captain Peyton that I will give him an answer
to his message to-night, then bid my kinsman Shaun entertain him in the
hall, with the other officers. Send some food up here, and I may come
down later