It went on and on.
Barry Whalen, however, was possessed of a kind of fear, and presently his face became troubled. This punishment was terrible. Byng might kill the man, and all would be as bad as could be. Stafford came to him.
"You had better go in," he said. "We ought to intervene. If you don't, I will. Listen...."
It was a strange sound to hear in this heart of civilization. It belonged to the barbaric places of the earth, where there was no law, where every pioneer was his own cadi.
With set face Barry Whalen entered the room. Byng paused for an instant and looked at him with burning, glazed eyes that scarcely realized him.
"Open that door," he said, presently, and Barry Whalen opened the door which led into the big hall.
"Open all down to the street," Byng said, and Barry Whalen went forward quickly.
Like some wild beast Krool crouched and stumbled and moaned as he ran down the staircase, through the outer hall, while a servant with scared face saw Byng rain savage blows upon the hated figure.
On the pavement outside the house, Krool staggered, stumbled, and fell down; but he slowly gathered himself up, and turned to the doorway, where Byng stood panting with the sjambok in his hand.
"Baas!—Baas!" Krool said with livid face, and then he crept painfully away along the street wall.