"
The voices down the stairs grew louder, and the sound of footsteps
began ascending, slowly and with hesitation.
"Quick!" said the Risaldar. "Light me that brazier again!"
Charcoal lights quickly, and before the steps had reached the landing
Mahommed Khan had a hot coal glowing in his tongs:
"Now speak to them!" he growled at the shuddering priest. "Order
them to go back to their temple and tell them that you follow!"
The priest shut his lips tight and shook his head. With rescue so
near as that, he could see no reason to obey. But the hot coal touched
him, and a Hindu who may be not at all afraid to die can not stand
torture.
"I speak!" he answered, writhing.
"Speak, then!" said the Risaldar, choosing a larger coal.
Then, in the priest's language, which none--and least of all a Risaldar--
can understand except the priests themselves, he began to shout
directions, pitching his voice into a high, wailing, minor key.
He was answered by another sing-song voice outside the door and he
listened with a glowing coal held six inches from his eyes.
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