The pain was so exquisite that the victim shrieked "Murder!" at the top of his voice.
The bashaw grinned from ear to ear.
"Perhaps the prisoner would rather pay than suffer," he said, after a moment.
"Yes, yes, I would," cried Mr. Figgins, desperately; "a great deal rather. How much?"
"Ten sequins a stroke. A hundred and ninety sequins in all."
"I'll pay the sum. Oh, why did I ever leave delightful London?" said the grocer.
"Raise him!" said the bashaw.
The victim was lifted up, and a messenger dispatched with a note to young Jack Harkaway to forward the orphan's cash-box.
In a short time the man returned, and the box was at once handed over to the bashaw, who having received the key, helped himself at once to double the sum he had demanded.
"Now I suppose I'm at liberty," said Mr. Figgins, glancing, wistfully at his cash box.