foe falling upon him with all
his weight.

The sense was almost driven from his bruised body by this fierce
onslaught; but in spite of his despair, Brace was still determined. He
could not fight now, he was too much exhausted; but he could defend the
treasure, which grew in value as he seemed to be about to lose it.

So far he had grasped the cross with but one hand; now he placed over it
the other, holding it to his breast, and pressing his chin upon his
hands.

"Leave go!" hissed his enemy, and blow after blow was rained upon poor
Brace's face, his foe now seating himself upon his chest, and by turns
striving to unlace his fingers, and striking him brutally with his bony
hands.

"Will help never come?" thought Brace. "Am I to give up life and the
cross as well?"

The next moment he had exerted his little remaining strength, and with a
fierce plunge partly dislodged his foe and turned himself half round
upon his face, so that now he held the cross beneath him, gaining a few
more minutes, in the hope that help might come, when, with a cry of
rage, the man again struck him furiously.

Then there was a moment's reprieve, and half-stunned and totally
helpless, Brace listened; but for a few seconds he could only hear a
horrible singing in his ears. Then he shivered, for the man was doing
something, and Brace's sharpened senses told him that a knife was being
opened by teeth grasping the blade; then he gave a faint, shuddering
struggle, but only to lie passive, as a strange blow fell upon his
unprotected shoulder--a hot, burning blow, accompanied by a deadly, sick
sensation.

It was his last effort, as, struggling round, a light flashed into the
room, and in that one second he saw above his breast the upraised knife
of his adversary. The next instant there was a loud report, followed by
the noise as of thunder in his ears, and then all was blank.

Book 2, Chapter XXIV.

THE DOCTOR'S ANSWER.

It was with a sense of waking from a dream that Brace Norton opened his
eyes to gaze upon lights and faces dancing around him; but it was long
before he could collect his thoughts sufficiently to reply to questions
that were asked. By degrees, though, he could make out that it was Sir
Murray Gernon who was speaking, and then there arose a loud, wailing
woman's cry, followed by a voice Brace recognised.

"Ye're reet, lassie--it is, sure enew. It's Jock Gurdon come back to
get his deserts."

"Blast you!--a doctor--I