Isaac Coffran was speaking. The words seemed to come from a distance. Harry’s mind seemed strangely bewildered, in the midst of this terrifying situation.
“Will you talk?” demanded the old man.
“No!” exclaimed Harry.
“You will suffer.”
“All right,” replied Harry, firmly.
He was resolved that he would not betray The Shadow. The least that he could do to make amends for his mistakes.
Harry realized that he was hopelessly trapped; that he should have warned The Shadow before he had spoken to Blair Windsor. But all that was past.
Life was hazardous for those who worked with The Shadow. One duty was to face death when it came, no matter how terrible its form might be.
“Take it slowly, Birdie,” said the old man. “We have plenty of time. Give him plenty of opportunity to talk.”
The spikes pressed against Harry’s back. They were not extremely sharp. It was the crushing power of the back wall that Harry feared most.