I had drawn quite near to Tuptim when she began her simple narrative, and was so much absorbed in attention to what she said, and in admiration of the fearlessness as well as of the beauty and majesty of that little figure, that I had remained rooted to the spot, standing there mechanically, and hardly noting what was going on around me. But the effect of that reply was startling; it brought me suddenly to my senses and to a full appreciation of the scene before me.
There was a child of barely sixteen years hurling defiance, at her own risk and peril, at the judges who appeared as giants beside her. To make such a reply to those executors of Siam's cruel laws was not only to accept death, but all the agonies of merciless torture. As her refusal fell like a thunderbolt upon my startled ears, she seemed a very Titan among the giants.
"Strip her, and give her thirty blows," shouted the infuriated P'hayaprome Baree Rak, in a voice hoarse with passion; and Khoon Thow App looked calmly on.
Presently the crowd opened, and a litter borne by two men was brought into the hall. On it lay the mutilated form of the priest Bâlât, who had just undergone the torture, in order to make him confess his guilt and that of his accomplice, Tuptim; but as the minutes of the ecclesiastical court stated, "it had not been possible to elicit from him even an indication that he had anything to confess." His priestly robes had been taken from him, and he was dressed like any ordinary layman, except that his hair and eyebrows were closely shaven. They laid him down beside Tuptim, hoping that the sight of her under torture would induce him to confess.
A SIAMESE SLAVE-GIRL.
The next moment Tuptim was stripped of her vest and bound to a stake, and the executioners proceeded to obey the orders of the judge. When the first blow descended on the girl's bare and delicate shoulders, I felt as if bound and lacerated myself, and losing all control over my actions, forgetting that I was a stranger and a foreigner there, and as powerless as the weakest of the oppressed around me, I sprang forward, and heard my voice commanding the executioners to desist, as they valued their lives.
The Amazons at once dropped their uplifted bamboos, and "Why so?" asked the judge. "At least till I can plead for Tuptim before his Majesty," I replied. "So be it," said the wretch; "go your way; we will wait your return."[5] Tuptim was unbound, and the moment she was released she crouched down and concealed herself under the folds of the canvas litter in which the priest lay motionless and silent.