"March on then, or I'll blow you to atoms," and he presented the black bottle again.
The Greek held up his hands in supplication and moved on.
"Go on!" thundered Mole.
"I'll be your slave, your abject slave," groaned the brigand; "but oh, great warrior, captain, spare my life."
"I'll eat you alive," hissed the cannibal Mole in his ear, "if you don't walk faster."
"I will, I will."
"Faster still, or you die."
"Pity, pity."
"Bah!" said the fierce Isaac, contemptuously, "why should I have pity on you after killing a score of your fellows with my own hand? Answer me that."
The other was silent.