THE TORTURE BY FIRE.
For some time Jack was but little troubled with the smoke. It billowed up and up, and rolled in huge clouds about the lofty roof. But gradually the cave filled, and Jack saw that with every moment the smoke came lower and lower, threatening to fill the cave from the floor to roof and choke the life out of him. A cloud whirled about him and was gone again. But it left Jack coughing and half-choked, so pungent and keen was the whiff which he had drawn into his lungs.
Thicker and thicker rose the clouds of smoke as the fire burned, for, cunningly intermingled with the dried tinder of the canes and reeds, his enemies had flung great bunches of fresh-cut boughs. The green wood of the latter, roasting and spluttering with sap in the midst of the roaring fire, threw out vast rolling clouds of choking smoke.
The freshest air was still at the mouth of the tunnel, and here Jack crouched, his head as low as possible, for he knew that the last fresh air would be found nearest to the floor. He was resolved not to go out. His stubborn British blood was aflame at the thought of being placed afresh in bonds, and he was ready to face the fiery torture within rather than creep out and give his enemies the joy of knowing that he was beaten, and of seeing him surrender.
Hope, too, was not yet dead in his heart. The heap of blazing brushwood was at some distance from him, for the rift was at the other side of the cave. If he could but set his teeth and endure this agony of fire until the heap had burned out, he would not be forced from his post.
But at that instant the fire reached several great faggots of green palm branches, and fresh clouds of aromatic smoke rolled out still thicker and faster than before. A swirl of the air currents within the cave sent a thick billowing mass full on the spot where Jack crouched. The brave lad felt that he was choking, that his senses were deserting him, as he drew, involuntarily, the pungent, biting smoke into his lungs.
He flung himself on his face, coughed out the smoke he had swallowed, and caught one refreshing gasp of sweet air blowing up the tunnel. Then the fresh air was driven back by the huge billow of smoke, and the heavy clouds settled about Jack. He could not have moved now had he wished. He was the prey of the thick suffocating smoke, and a swift merciful unconsciousness fell upon him and put an end to the agonies he had so nobly endured.
When Jack came to himself again, the first thing he knew was that he had failed to keep himself out of the clutch of his enemies. When he opened his bleared and smarting eyes and looked round, he saw the dark face of Saya Chone straight before him. The half-caste said nothing, only grinned in evil joy, and Jack closed his eyes again with a groan of despair. He felt that he was once more in bonds, though they were not so close and galling as before. He was dripping wet, and his eyes pained him cruelly.
He lay still for a few instants, then pulled himself together, jerked himself into a sitting position, and looked round boldly, determined to put the best face possible on the situation, and not give the half-caste the joy of gloating over an enemy who acknowledged himself beaten.
He found he was in the outer cave, and through the tunnel he could see plainly the glow of the fire still blazing in the inner recess. But no smoke came this way. Clearly the rift had been opened, and the fire was pulling up towards the natural vent. Jack looked round and saw that he was in the midst of a pool of water; he supposed that it had been flung upon him to bring him to.
"Well," said Saya Chone at last, "are you not going to thank me for saving the life you seemed obstinately bent upon throwing away? If I had not been able to order a couple of fellows, as careless of their lives as you of yours, to go into the smoke and drag you out, it would have been all over with you by now."
Jack made no answer. He did not so much as trouble to look at Saya Chone. He ignored him entirely, and glanced down at the fetters which confined his limbs. He found that his ankles were bound together with light and slender links of steel, a steel ring encircling each ankle, and similar fetters bound his wrists. At first glance it seemed as if these light bonds might easily be broken, but Jack gave up that idea very soon. He saw that they were the work of a very cunning and skilful craftsman, highly wrought and beautifully tempered, slight in appearance, but immensely strong.
A head now came in sight outside. It was the Strangler, and he called out a few words to Saya Chone. The half-caste had been sitting with his hand in the breast of his jacket. He now drew it out and showed that the butt of a heavy revolver had been in his clasp. He pointed the weapon at Jack's heart.
"I must beg of you to get up, my lord," he said, in tones of sneering deference. "Your conveyance awaits you outside the cave."
When he saw that Jack hesitated to obey, he gave a shrill whistle. A couple of Kachins at once sprang up at the mouth of the cave. Sooner than be handled by these evil little ruffians, Jack now got up and shuffled slowly down the cave, his fetters allowing him to move about ten inches at a stride. But this, however, did not save him from their hands. At the mouth of the cave the two Kachins and the Malay seized upon him and swung him down to the bed of the ravine. Here a strong pony was waiting, and when Jack's ankles had been freed, he was tossed astride and the reins put in his hands.
The half-caste followed him at every step with the revolver, nor did he put the weapon away until the Strangler had once more locked the fetters which bound Jack's ankles together. This he did with a small key, and, as the links of steel were brought under the pony's barrel from one foot of the prisoner to the other, Jack was securely tethered to the animal.