EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
“I do not know,” said Mpingu.
“If your tongue were cut out, you could not tell us where he is,” said the Roman. “If red-hot irons were thrust into your eyes, you could not see to lead us to his hiding-place; but if we find him without your help, and we surely shall find him, we shall need neither your tongue nor your eyes. Do you understand?”
“I do not know where he is,” repeated Mpingu.
The Roman turned away and struck a single blow upona gong, after which he stood in silence until a slave entered the room in response to the summons. “Fetch tongs,” the Roman instructed the slave, “and a charcoal brazier with burning-irons. Be quick!”
After the slave had left, silence fell again upon the apartment. The official was giving Mpingu an opportunity to think, and Mpingu so occupied the time in thinking that it seemed to him that the slave had scarcely left the apartment before he returned again with tongs and a lighted burner, from the glowing heart of which protruded the handle of a burning-iron.
“Have your soldiers throw him to. the floor and hold him,” said the official to the centurion.
It was evident to Mpingu that the end had come; the officer was not even going to give him another opportunity to speak.
“Wait!” he shrieked.
“Well,” said the official, “you are regaining your memory?”
“I am only a slave,” wailed Mpingu. “I must do what my masters command.”
“And what did they command?” inquired the Roman.
“I was only an interpreter,” said Mpingu “The white barbarian spoke the language of the Bagegos, who are my people. Through me they talked to him and he talked to them.”
“And what was said?” demanded the inquisitor.
Mpingu hesitated, dropping his eyes to the floor.
“Come, quickly!" snapped the other.
“I have forgotten,” said Mpingu.
The official nodded to the centurion. The soldiers seized
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