Desmond’s reply came without a moment’s hesitation. To act as a spy upon his own countrymen--how could Angria imagine that an English boy would ever consent to win his freedom on such terms? His simple words roused the Maratha to fury. He sprang to his feet and angrily addressed Diggle, who had also risen, and stood at his side still smiling. Diggle replied to his vehement words in a tone too low for Desmond to catch what he said. Angria turned to the boy again. "I will not only set you free; I will give you half a lakh of rupees; you shall have a place at my court, or, if you please, I will recommend you to another prince, in whose service you may rise to wealth and honour. If you refuse, I will kill you; no, I will not kill you, for death is sweet to a slave; I will inflict on you the tortures I reserve for those who provoke my anger: you shall lose your ears, your nose, and----" Diggle again interposed. "Pardon me, bhai[#]," Desmond heard him say, "that is hardly the way to deal with a boy of my nation. If you will deign to leave him to me, I think that in a little I shall find means to overcome his hesitation." [#] Brother. "But even then, how can I trust the boy? He may give his word to escape me; then betray me to his countrymen. I have no faith in the Firangi." "Believe me, if he gives his word he will keep it. That is the way with us." "It is not your way." "I am no longer of them," said Diggle with consummate aplomb. "Dismiss him now; I will do my best with him." "Then you must hasten. I give you three days: if within that time he has not consented, I will do to him all that I have said, and more also." "I do not require three days to make up my mind," said Desmond quietly. "I cannot do what----" "Hush, you young fool!" cried Diggle angrily in English. Turning to the Pirate he added: "The boy is as stiff-necked as a pig; but even a pig can be led if you ring his snout. I beg you leave him to me." "Take him away!" exclaimed Angria, clapping his hands. Two attendants came in answer to his summons, and Desmond was led off and escorted by them to his workshop. Angry and disgusted as he was with both the Maratha and Diggle, he was still more anxious at this unexpected turn in his affairs. He had but three days! If he had not escaped before the fourth day dawned, his fate would be the most terrible that could befall a living creature. The tender mercies of the wicked are cruel! He had seen, among the prisoners, some of the victims of Angria’s cruelty; they had suffered tortures too terrible to be named, and dragged out a life of unutterable degradation and misery, longing for death as a blissful end. With his quick imagination he already felt the hands of the torturers upon him; and for all the self-control which his life in Gheria had induced, he was for some moments so wholly possessed by terror that he could scarcely endure the consciousness of existence.