Opening a little trap in the top
of the first compartment of the cage (that is, the compartment which
covered Smith's bare feet and ankles), he inserted the neck of the
sack, then suddenly seized it by the bottom and shook it vigorously.
Before my horrified gaze, four huge rats came tumbling out from the
bag into the cage!
The dacoit snatched away the sack and snapped the shutter fast. A
moving mist obscured my sight, a mist through which I saw the green
eyes of Dr. Fu-Manchu fixed upon me, and through which, as from a
great distance, his voice, sunk to a snakelike hiss, came to my ears.
"Cantonese rats, Dr. Petrie ... the most ravenous in the world ...
they have eaten nothing for nearly a week!"
Then all became blurred as though a painter with a brush steeped in
red had smudged out the details of the picture. For an indefinite
period, which seemed like many minutes yet probably was only a few
seconds, I saw nothing and heard nothing; my sensory nerves were
dulled entirely. From this state I was awakened and brought back to
the realities by a sound which ever afterward I was doomed to
associate with that ghastly scene.
This was the squealing of the rats.
The red mist seemed to disperse at that, and with frightfully intense
interest, I began to study the awful torture to which Nayland Smith
was being subjected. The dacoit had disappeared, and Fu-Manchu
placidly was watching the four lean and hideous animals in the cage.
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