Raising an arm in an attempt to shield his face, the general lost his balance and fell to the ground. Leaning over him, Jack seized him with his left arm and jerked him to his feet. Then, thrusting him off at arm’s length, he again brought the lash into play.
“Eight!” he counted aloud.
“Nine!”
“Ten!”
He threw the lash suddenly to the ground and turned to face the squad of soldiers who came running up.
These men had been afraid to fire for fear of wounding their commander; but now they laid rude hands on Jack and held him, as General Surgoff arose slowly to his feet and felt his face and shoulders tenderly.
The officer turned an angry glare on Jack and he said very quietly:
“I should have you killed. But I won’t. It would be too easy a death. You shall have twenty lashes every morning and nothing but bread to eat and water to drink for thirty days. Strip him, men!”
Jack’s coat was quickly stripped from his shoulders. His vest was jerked away and his shirt ripped off. Then, his back bare, he was pushed into the center of the crowd of soldiers.
The general now summoned the two men who had first held the whips and they seized their weapons eagerly, for each had felt the weight of Jack’s anger.