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.