"
Willis knew the desperate character of the man who held him in his
power; it was no vain threat he had just heard; the pressure on his
chest was agonizing already.
"For God's sake don't murder me!" he gasped out; "I--I gave it to Miss
Bellasys."
"Of course you did," Mohun said, coolly; "I knew it all along. Now get
up, and write that down."
He spurned away the fallen man as he spoke till he rolled over and over
on the floor.
There is nothing which disconcerts a nature long used to obey like a
sudden brutal _coup de main_. Remember the Scythians and their slaves.
The rebels met their masters boldly enough on a fair field with sword
and spear, but they cowered before the crack of the horsewhips.
All the spider-webs of the unfortunate Willis's diplomacy were utterly
swept away; his powers of thought and volition were concentrated now on
one point--to get rid of his visitor as soon as possible.
He rose slowly and painfully (for the mere physical shock had been
heavy), and, placing himself at a table, tried to write the few words of
acknowledgment that Mohun dictated; but his hand trembled so excessively
that he could hardly form the letters. As he looked up in piteous
deprecation, evidently fearing lest his inability to comply should be
construed into unwillingness or rebellion, he presented a spectacle of
degraded humanity so revolting in its abasement that even the cynic
turned away in painful disgust.
Pages:
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269