“‘Is it the hand of a babe? and how came that hand to be thus alone? What cut it off from the babe? and where is the babe? Is it a hand? or is it the vision of a hand that shall presently tear thy throat? “‘Where are thy soldiers, Wambe? Do they sleep and eat and go forth to do thy bidding? or are they perchance dead and scattered like the winter leaves?’ “He groaned and rolled his eyes while the fierce-faced woman went on. “‘Art thou still a chief, Wambe? or does another take thy place and power, and say, Lord, what doest thou there? and what is that slave’s leglet upon thy knee? “‘Is it a dream, Wambe, great lord and chief? or’—and she lifted her clenched hands and shook them in his face—‘hath a woman’s vengeance found thee out and a woman’s wit o’ermatched thy tyrannous strength? and art thou about to slowly die in torments horrible to think on, oh, thou accursed murderer of little children?’ “And with one wild scream she dashed the dead hand of the child straight into his face, and then fell senseless on the floor. As for the demon in the trap, he shrank back so far as its iron bounds would allow, his yellow eyes starting out of his head with pain and terror, and then once more began to yell. “The scene was more than I could bear. “‘Nala,’ I said, ‘this must stop. That man is a fiend, but he must not be left to die there. See thou to it.’ “‘Nay,” answered Nala, ‘let him taste of the food wherewith he hath fed so many; leave him till death shall find him.’ “‘That I will not,’ I answered. ‘Let his end be swift; see thou to it.’ “‘As thou wilt, Macumazahn,’ answered the chief, with a shrug of the shoulders; ‘first let the white man and Maiwa be brought forth.’ “So the soldiers came forward and carried Every and the woman into the open air. As the former was borne past his tormentor, the fallen chief, so cowardly was his wicked heart, actually prayed him to intercede for him, and save him from a fate which, but for our providential appearance, would have been Every’s own. “So we went away, and in another moment one of the biggest villains on the earth troubled it no more. Once in the fresh air Every recovered quickly. I looked at him, and horror and sorrow pierced me through to see such a sight. His face was the face of a man of sixty, though he was not yet forty, and his poor body was cut to pieces with stripes and scars, and other marks of the torments which Wambe had for years amused himself with inflicting on him. “As soon as he recovered himself a little he struggled on to his knees, burst into a paroxysm of weeping, and clasping my legs with his emaciated arms, would have actually kissed my feet. “‘What are you about, old fellow?’ I said, for I am not accustomed to that sort of thing, and it made me feel uncomfortable.