“Five lashes!” he ordered quietly.
The woman uttered a piteous cry and fell on her knees, raising an appealing hand to the general. She was in this position when the first blow fell.
The arm of the second man was now raised and descended; but before the lash could find its mark, Jack sprang suddenly forward and caught the blow upon his left arm. With a cry of rage he leaped upon the man who had wielded the whip and snatched it from his hand with a single movement; then he leaped back and struck the man squarely across the face.
The man staggered back.
The second whip-wielder rushed upon the lad, with his weapon raised. This blow, too, Jack caught upon his arm. Before it could be repeated, he had dealt the Russian a heavy blow across the face, and, following it up quickly, snatched the whip from the man’s hand.
Then, still furious, the lad wheeled upon the officer, who had stood by, smiling the while. As Jack faced him, the officer, still with a smile on his face, drew a revolver and pointed it squarely at him.
So great was his anger, however, that Jack either failed to see the revolver pointed directly at him, or else he was too enraged to heed it. Ignoring the weapon as though it had been no more than a toy pistol, he leaped forward with a cry.
There was a flash and a sharp report and Jack felt something burn the left side of his head; but the bullet did not stay him. Before the officer could fire again, the lad was upon him, the whip in his right hand held high above his head.
“Swish!”
It descended with all the power of Jack’s good right arm.