For a moment there was silence. They had not realised the words. Then Dunbar broke out: "No, by God, no! Strip for that swine! Harkness come on! You go for that fellow, I'll take this one!" and instantly he had hurled himself on the Japanese nearest the door. Harkness flung at the one who had spoken. He was conscious of his fingers clutching at the thin cotton stuff of the clothes, and, beneath the clothes, the cold hard steel of the limbs. His arms gripped upwards, caught the cloth of the shirt, tore it, slipped on the smooth hairless chest. Then in his left forearm there was a pain, sharp as though some ravenous animal had bitten him there, then an agony in the middle of his back, then in his left thigh. Against his will he cried out; the pain was terrible--awful. Every nerve in his body was rebelling so that he had neither strength nor force. He slipped to the floor, writhing involuntarily with the agony of the twisted muscle and, even as he slipped, he saw sliding down over him, impervious, motionless, fixed like a shining mask, the face of the Japanese. He lay on the floor; panic flooded him. His helplessness, the terror of what was coming next, the fright of the dark--it was all he could do at that moment not to burst into tears and cry like a child. He was lying on the floor, and the Japanese, kneeling beside him, had one arm under him as though to make his position more comfortable. "Very sorry," the Japanese murmured in his ear; "the master's orders." As the pain withdrew he felt only an intense relief and thankfulness. He did not care about what had gone before nor mind what followed. All he wished was to be left like that until the wild beating of his heart softened and his pulse was again tranquil. Then he thought of Dunbar. He turned his head and saw that Dunbar also was lying on the floor, on his side. Not a sound came from him. The other Japanese was bending over him. "Dunbar!" Harkness cried in a voice that to his own surprise was only a whisper, "wait. It's no good with these fellows. We'll have our chance later." Dunbar replied, the words gritted from between his teeth: "No--it's no good--with these devils. It's all right though. I'm cheery." Harkness saw then that the Japanese had been stripping Dunbar, and he noticed with a curious little wonder that his clothes had been arranged in a neat tidy pile--his socks, his collar, his braces, on his shirt and trousers. He saw the Japanese move forward as though to help Dunbar to his feet; there was a movement as though Dunbar were pushing him away. He rose to his feet, naked, strong, his head up, swung out his arms, pushed out his chest. "No bones broken with their monkey tricks. Hurry up, Harkness. We may as well go into the sea together. I bet the water's cold." But no. The Japanese said something. Dunbar broke out: