CHAPTER XII.
THE MESSENGER "He is gone," I panted, "and the world hasn't lost much." "Well, it didn't give him much, did it, poor devil, so don't let's speak ill of him," answered Leo, who had thrown himself exhausted to the ground.

"Perhaps he was all right before they made him mad.

At any rate he had pluck, for I don't want to tackle such another." "How did you manage it ?" I asked.
"Dodged in beneath his sword, closed with him, threw him and smashed him up over that lump of stone.

Sheer strength, that's all.

A cruel business, but it was his life or mine, and there you are.