"No; they were natives. Poor fellows! They were completely scared. They could do nothing."
"It's horrible," said Narcissus.
"One comfort is, that the man probably did not suffer. A kind of stupefaction seems to come over the victim at such a time. Some who have been in the clutch of a lion or tiger, and all but killed, have described such a sense—rather like having taken an opiate. One hopes it is always so—with mice and birds as well as men."
"Anyway it's awful," repeated Mrs. Plunkett. "I don't wonder those men stayed up in the trees. I wouldn't have come down."
"And yet there have been men who could face lions and tigers without fear," said the gentleman musingly.
"Have there?" asked Plunkett; and "Yes, I know," said Marigold—the two speaking simultaneously.
"That's General Heavitree," whispered a voice near. "Mr. Heavitree's uncle."
Plunkett nodded back an assent, and General Heavitree looked at Marigold.
"You know—what?" he asked.
"The early Christians," said Marigold modestly. "Wasn't it them you meant, sir? They weren't afraid to meet tigers and lions, and to be eaten up by them, sooner than give up their faith."