Could he save himself—? Ridiculous thought! In his burning brain that whirling auger he was watching took on startling dimensions. It whirled around and around, and the opening was growing larger and larger. What passed through that brain then transcends the power of human expression. Life had leaped to heights of exaltation from whose vantage point of vision, chaotic complications were displayed.
Outside the work went on methodically. Leiba had watched the auger penetrate in four different places.
“Now hand me the saw,” commanded George.
A slender saw was slipped through the opening and began swiftly to unite the four symmetrical holes made by the auger. Now their plan was clear. Four holes; four corners—to be united by four lines. When this was done the square of wood would fall out, and an opening be made. Through this opening a hand would enter, reach for the bolt and unbar the door—and the Christians would enter Leiba’s house.
Then Zibal and all his family would be martyrs. Two of the vagabonds would hold upon the floor their bodies, while George would put his foot upon their bellies, and then turn that auger around and around in their breasts.
The sweat of death bathed the body of Zibal; his limbs gave way and he drops upon the floor.
With wide foolish eyes he stares at that timid light by the window. Then he laughed and said with a look that resembled that of a beast: “Soon the saw will hit the other hole!”
Then something astonishing happened. A change took place. The shaking of his body stopped. The weakness vanished. Something that resembled merriment slipped across his face.
He got up with the swiftness and security of health. He moved like a man going toward an assured act.
The line between the two highest points of the auger holes was all but sawn. Leiba approached cautiously. Now his laughter was undissembled. He nodded his head.