“Yet I will not do it,” he said doggedly. “You may find the key for yourself.”
“Perhaps the flame of yon candle across his wrists would make him alter his mind,” growled the sergeant.
I saw the man turn white at the words, but he uttered no sound. “Hark you, fellow!” I said harshly. “I have no time to waste in trifling. I will give you till I count ten to say if you will do as I desire, and I should recommend you to reconsider your decision, otherwise——”
I caught the sergeant’s eye. He grinned and commenced to unwind his sash. In the dead silence that followed, a silence broken only by the whistling of the wind without, that set the lanterns flickering and the shadows dancing on the walls, I began slowly to count. The troopers stood around, leaning on their swords, in keen expectation of that which was to come.
It was a strange scene upon which the lantern light fell. The mare regarding the intruders with a mild surprise, the prisoner in the centre, silent and sullen, and lastly, the ring of ruthless faces, upon which were stamped all the baser passions of cruelty and lust.
“Eight, nine”—I made a longer pause—“ten!”
The man before me had neither moved nor spoken as yet, but now he broke out again:
“I will not do it! You may flog me first! I will say no more!”
The sergeant’s eye had been busy searching the room.
“We shall not flog you,” he said grimly. “Make your mind easy as to that. But,” he continued, “there is a hook above, I see, and a strong one. Here, one of you, bring me that rope yonder. I will teach him how we unloose tongues in Tangiers!”