THE TORTURE BY FIRE.
For some time Jack was but little troubled with the smoke. It billowed
up and up, and rolled in huge clouds about the lofty roof. But
gradually the cave filled, and Jack saw that with every moment the
smoke came lower and lower, threatening to fill the cave from the
floor to roof and choke the life out of him. A cloud whirled about him
and was gone again. But it left Jack coughing and half-choked, so
pungent and keen was the whiff which he had drawn into his lungs.
Thicker and thicker rose the clouds of smoke as the fire burned, for,
cunningly intermingled with the dried tinder of the canes and reeds,
his enemies had flung great bunches of fresh-cut boughs. The green
wood of the latter, roasting and spluttering with sap in the midst of
the roaring fire, threw out vast rolling clouds of choking smoke.
The freshest air was still at the mouth of the tunnel, and here Jack
crouched, his head as low as possible, for he knew that the last fresh
air would be found nearest to the floor. He was resolved not to go
out. His stubborn British blood was aflame at the thought of being
placed afresh in bonds, and he was ready to face the fiery torture
within rather than creep out and give his enemies the joy of knowing
that he was beaten, and of seeing him surrender.
Hope, too, was not yet dead in his heart. The heap of blazing
brushwood was at some distance from him, for the rift was at the other
side of the cave. If he could but set his teeth and endure this agony
of fire until the heap had burned out, he would not be forced from his
post.
But at that instant the fire reached several great faggots of green
palm branches, and fresh clouds of aromatic smoke rolled out still
thicker and faster than before. A swirl of the air currents within the
cave sent a thick billowing mass full on the spot where Jack crouched.
The brave lad felt that he was choking, that his senses were deserting
him, as he drew, involuntarily, the pungent, biting smoke into his
lungs.
He flung himself on his face, coughed out the smoke he had swallowed,
and caught one refreshing gasp of sweet air blowing up the tunnel.
Then the fresh air was driven back by the huge billow of smoke, and
the heavy clouds settled about Jack. He could not have moved now had
he wished. He was the prey of the thick suffocating smoke, and a swift
merciful unconsciousness fell upon him and put an end to the agonies
he had so nobly endured.
When Jack came to himself again, the first thing he knew was that he
had failed to keep himself out of the clutch of his enemies. When he
opened his bleared and smarting eyes and looked round, he saw the
dark face of Saya Chone straight before him. The half-caste said
nothing, only grinned in evil joy, and Jack closed his eyes again with
a groan of despair. He felt that he was once more in bonds, though
they were not so close and galling as before. He was dripping wet, and
his eyes pained him cruelly.
He lay still for a few instants, then pulled himself together, jerked
himself into a sitting position, and looked round boldly, determined
to put the best face possible on the situation, and not give the
half-caste the joy of gloating over an enemy who acknowledged himself
beaten.
He found he was in the outer cave, and through the tunnel he could see
plainly the glow of the fire still blazing in the inner recess. But no
smoke came this way. Clearly the rift had been opened, and the fire
was pulling up towards the natural vent. Jack looked round and saw
that he was in the midst of a pool of water; he supposed that it had
been flung upon him to bring him to.
"Well," said Saya Chone at last, "are you not going to thank me for
saving the life you seemed obstinately bent upon throwing away? If I
had not been able to order a couple of fellows, as careless of their
lives as you of yours, to go into the smoke and drag you out, it would
have been all over with you by now."
Jack made no answer. He did not so much as trouble to look at Saya
Chone. He ignored him entirely, and glanced down at the fetters which
confined his limbs. He found that his ankles were bound together with
light and slender links of steel, a steel ring encircling each ankle,
and similar fetters bound his wrists. At first glance it seemed as if
these light bonds might easily be broken, but Jack gave up that idea
very soon. He saw that they were the work of a very cunning and
skilful craftsman, highly wrought and beautifully tempered, slight in
appearance, but immensely strong.
A head now came in sight outside. It was the Strangler, and he called
out a few words to Saya Chone. The half-caste had been sitting with
his hand in the breast of his jacket. He now drew it out and showed
that the butt of a heavy revolver had been in his clasp. He pointed
the weapon at Jack's heart.
"I must beg of you to get up, my lord," he said, in tones of sneering
deference. "Your conveyance awaits you outside the cave."
When he saw that Jack hesitated to obey, he gave a shrill whistle. A
couple of Kachins at once sprang up at the mouth of the cave. Sooner
than be handled by these evil little ruffians, Jack now got up and
shuffled slowly down the cave, his fetters allowing him to move about
ten inches at a stride. But this, however, did not save him from their
hands. At the mouth of the cave the two Kachins and the Malay seized
upon him and swung him down to the bed of the ravine. Here a strong
pony was waiting, and when Jack's ankles had been freed, he was tossed
astride and the reins put in his hands.
The half-caste followed him at every step with the revolver, nor did
he put the weapon away until the Strangler had once more locked the
fetters which bound Jack's ankles together. This he did with a small
key, and, as the links of steel were brought under the pony's barrel
from one foot of the prisoner to the other, Jack was securely tethered
to the animal.