They were going to torture me by giving me galvanic shocks, and passing strong currents through my body.
I had heard of the torture being applied in Russia to political prisoners.
I had, when a boy, patronised those machines which professed to try one's "nerve." I had held the two handles and watched the proprietor draw out the rod from the coil to increase the strength of the current. I knew how unbearable that feeling could become even with a weak battery. What would it be with this strong one?
Saumarez' voice broke in upon me.
"Where is the key of the safe?"
I was enraged at the sound of his voice.
"You shall never know, you vile devil!" I cried.
"Give it to him," he exclaimed sharply to the two men in German. As he spoke I heard the sharp report of two sporting guns, one charged with black powder, one, from its quick sharp crack, with smokeless, quite near. There were two sportsmen.
Then—oh my God!—began that awful torture of a strong current of electricity passing up my arms.
I threw back my head and cried with all my strength, directing my voice to the open window far above me in the roof of the tower—