"Englishman are generally brave," said an old Turk; "but I never knew one who would silently undergo such pain as this."
"Make the next ten blows harder."
The second man, therefore, in his turn, rained down upon the inanimate soles of the ex-pasha, such fearful blows as resounded through the place, and made many spectators shudder.
But still the victim neither flinched nor cried out.
"Bismallah! this is truly wonderful, that a giaour so old, so grey, so apparently feeble, should thus bear so terrible a punishment. Harder, Selim. Now do you not feel it, prisoner?"
"Of course I feel it, great pasha; it even tickles my beard," replied Mole; "but heaven hath given me power to withstand this terrible torture, and the high spirit of an Englishman forbids me to cry out."
"I could scarcely have believed it, did I not behold it with my own eyes," said the puzzled lieutenant. "Selim, a little harder."
"Your eminence, the tale of blows is fully counted," said the man, laying aside his cane.
"Five-and-twenty already? I was so interested with the prisoner's fortitude, that I didn't count them. He has not suffered enough yet; give him five blows more."
"I am ready," said Mole, stroking his false beard. "Remember, an Englishman fears not pain. Strike away."