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Updated: September 8, 2025
The three were practically simultaneous, and the scream rose from the wildly-parted lips of the Ruby King as he whirled round and staggered against Saya Chone, a slip of lead driven through his brain. The fate of the half-caste was striking and dreadful.
It was received with cries of joy by some, and howls of grief by one or two women. Now the bodyguard drove the whole crowd, save the prisoner, out of the apartment. When the uproar of the noisy horde had died away in the narrow passages, Saya Chone waved to the guards to bring Mr. Haydon forward.
The haunting terror of the vision was beyond all description. Jack tried to speak, to ask what had done this fearful thing. But his dried tongue refused its office; it clung to the roof of his mouth. The half-caste at his shoulder now broke into a chuckling laugh. "He looks pretty, does he not?" said Saya Chone. "And you see nothing has happened but what I said. He has been tied here all night."
They sprang to their feet, and, braving all the terrors of Saya Chone, whose name had appeared so dreadful to them, they darted for the tunnel, brushed swiftly by Jack, and were gone. The English lad watched them eagerly. He saw them fly down the outer cave, leap wildly into the ravine, and disappear. A minute later he saw them cross his field of view as they climbed the opposite bank.
"What does this mean?" thought Jack. "Are they only putting us here to terrify us? The mosquitoes cannot get at us through this netting." But at the next moment he learned that this was but a trick to prolong their agony, and cause them to endure an extremity of mental suffering which the villager had never known. Saya Chone, as ever, was the spokesman of his master's will.
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