The boy was used to answering without hesitation when that voice questioned him. And he spoke out now:
"They want him to eat a snake."
Sven Elversson felt even more powerless than before. He could see the whole scene; these men commanding him to eat, and he would refuse. Then they would set on him, with blows and kicks. And still he would say no. There was no power on earth now that could compel him to such a ghastly act—they might torture him to death.
But there was still a little respite left before he would be forced to go with them.
The fellow who had found the snake that morning drew out the long smooth thing from his pocket, and, rocking unsteadily, held it out before the mother's face.
"A rare little feast it'll be for him," he said.
"You call yourselves men?" cried the woman. "And you think I'll let him go with you, that's better than all of you together?"
The men burst out into a shout of laughter.
"He won't have to go farther than down to the shore," said the man who had just spoken. "We'll make a fire and cook it for him there."
Sven Elversson felt his strength returning. "It will soon be time," he said to himself. "By to-night it will be all over. And better so."