And the audience were wild in their applause.
Your true Indian juggler despises such tricks as knife or sword swallowing. These are far beneath the dignity of a nation that has studied jugglery probably since the days of Moses and Aaron.
“I will show you now,” said Pandoo, “a common Angleese piece of de juggle, what de quack jugglers make you Angleese stare with at de halls of music.”
A boy brought a basket. Antonio submitted to have himself roped into a knot and squeezed into the basket. Then the basket was closed.
“I now proceed,” he said, “to kill my master with our dagger knife. Little child’en, you must not be afraid. It is all fun.”
“Say you prayah,” he shouted, “say you prayah. You is goin’ to die plenty quick. I give you tree minutes.”
Meanwhile Pandoo picked up Antonio’s guitar. “Ha, ha, ha,” he laughed right merrily. “This belong to me now. He not can take that with him. Guitar no good in de grave. De worms not care for moosic.
“Now I shall kill he plenty quick.”
It did appear dreadful to see Pandoo lift the dagger and stab the basket all round, while groans for some time issued therefrom and finally ceased, and blood ran in darkling rivulets along the stage.
Everybody looked very serious now, till presently up went the lid of the basket and out jumped Antonio.