Really, the fellow had been such a striking stage character one might have thought him to be in training for a new comic opera, and he had appealed to the humorous element in my peculiar composition.
So much did I think of Cerberus that I touched good Robbins on the shoulder and begged, as a particular favor, that he would grant me the privilege of a last farewell glimpse of the surly dog, that is, if it were convenient.
Accordingly, he presently led me to a door, which he kicked open, and bade me look in.
The lantern showed me another den similar to that luxurious abode in which I had spent a day and a night, only this one lacked the kingly couch on which I had rested my weary limbs.
But my old friend was there, lying like a mummy on the damp and moldy floor.
He seemed almost swathed in rope that had been coiled around him from head to feet, and secured with many a half hitch, and similar sailor’s knots; while he appeared to have stopped short in the act of swallowing a pine knot, a portion of which projected from between his teeth.
I had heard of alligators doing that sort of thing, but never a human being; but then I had my doubts as to whether Cerberus were not half or wholly buccaneer.
Perhaps I should have felt sorry for the poor devil, but, somehow, I could not; he had seemed so churlish and hateful that it looked as though he were only getting his rightful reward while he lay there.
And, possessed by a spirit of deviltry, I could not resist the temptation of approaching the fellow with mysterious movements; doubtless, he fully anticipated that I was about to repay the debt I owed him by introducing a keen-edged knife between his fifth and sixth ribs, for his black eyes fairly scintillated with terror.
My revenge was even more sinister.