Had it not been for his strong grasp the asp would have been torn from Lawrence’s failing grasp, for he was evidently growing giddy and faint, when, placing his knife as close to the neck as he could get it, Yussuf gave one bold upward cut and divided the reptile, Mr Preston throwing down the writhing body while the head was still held tightly within Lawrence’s hand.
“Do not give way, Lawrence effendi,” said Yussuf in the same stern commanding voice as he had used before. “Hold up your hand—so. That is well.”
He twisted the lad’s clasped hand, thumb upwards, as he spoke; and those who looked on saw a few drops of blood fall from the serpent’s neck as it moved feebly, the strength being now in the body that writhed among the stones.
“Let him throw it down now,” cried Mr Preston. “He may be bitten, and we must see to him.”
“No,” said Yussuf; “he must not open his hand yet. The head may have strength to bite even now. A few minutes, effendi, and we will see.”
He watched Lawrence curiously, and with a satisfied air, for instead of growing more faint, the lad seemed to be recovering fast—so fast, indeed, that he looked up at Yussuf and exclaimed:
“Let me throw the horrid thing away.”
“It did not bite you?” said Yussuf quickly.
“No, I think not. It had no time,” replied Lawrence.
Yussuf said something to himself, and then, as he retained the hand within his, he exclaimed: