Still he never spoke.
They left him again to the Tantalus torture. He had his freedom in his own choice; in the utterance of one word; and he let them do their worst upon him rather than turn traitor to the woman whom he held his traitress.
They carne and grouped about the pillar, and looked up in his face again with riotous laughter and foul-mouthed outrage at him in his defencelessness. The brazen sky burned above in pitiless fire; the smiling cruelty of the salt sea mocked him with its tossing sunlit freshness; the red ants were slowly climbing the base of the column, scenting blood, and swarming upward to fasten on him; through the air the first mosquito winged its way, herald of troops to come.
"Will you answer now?" asked the chief.
"No!"
The Calabrian flung himself round on his men in the rear.
"Take him down^ and scourge him till you cut the truth out of his heart!"
They were like a herd of Pyrenean dogs; the sight of prey roused all their ravenous instincts. Men tasting once the power and the pleasure of torture
