"Not being a demon, which you seem to be, I don't."
"Hah! these--are," (he spoke very slowly, and hissed the words out
between his teeth),--"torterers!"
"What?" inquired Jack, putting his head a little more to one side and
revolving his thumbs in a contrary direction, by way of variety.
"Torterers--man-torterers! What d'ye twirl your thumbs like that for,
eh?"
"Because it reminds me how easily, if I were unchained and had on my
wooden leg, I could twirl you round your own neck, and cram your heels
into your own mouth, and ram you down your own throat, until there was
nothing of you left but the extreme ends of your shirt-collar sticking
out of your eyes."
The mention of this peculiarly complicated operation seemed to be too
much for the men: setting up a loud yell, they rushed upon Jack and
seized him.
"Quick--the screws!" cried the man with the flattened nose.
A small iron instrument was brought, Jack's thumbs inserted therein, and
the handle turned. I heard a harsh, grating sound, and observed my poor
companion's face grow deadly pale and his lips turn blue. But he
uttered no cry, and, to my surprise, he did not even struggle.
"Stop!" I shouted in a voice of thunder.
The men looked round in surprise. At that moment a great idea seemed to
fill my soul. I cannot explain what it was. To this day I do not know
what it was. It was a mystery--an indescribable mystery. I felt as one
might be supposed to feel whose spirit were capable of eating material
food, and had eaten too much. It was awful! Under the impulse of this
sensation, I again shouted--
"_Stop_!"
"Why?"
"I cannot tell you why, until you unscrew that machine. Quick! it is of
the deepest, the most vital importance to yourselves."
The extreme earnestness of my voice and manner induced the men to comply
almost, I might say, in spite of themselves.
"Now, lad, what is it? Mind, _your_ turn is coming; so don't trifle
with us."
"_Trifle_ with you!" I said, in a voice so deep, and slow, and
solemn,--with a look so preternaturally awful,--that the four men were
visibly impressed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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