But the brute who administered the torture was untouched. Once
more, and again, the rope rose and fell, and under its marks the blood
first dribbled, and then streamed from the white and tender skin.
But Eric felt no more; that scream had been the last effort of nature;
his head had dropped on his bosom, and though his limbs still seemed to
creep at the unnatural infliction, he had fainted away.
"Stop, master, stop, if you don't want to kill the boy outright," said
Roberts, one of the crew, stepping forward, while the hot flush of
indignation burned through his tanned and weather-beaten cheek. The
sailors called him "Softy Bob," from that half-gentleness of disposition
which had made him, alone of all the men, speak one kind or consoling
word for the proud and lonely cabin-boy.
"Undo him then, and be--," growled the skipper and rolled off to drink
himself drunk.
"I doubt he's well-nigh done for him already," said Roberts, quickly
untying Eric's hands, round which the cords had been pulled so tight as
to leave two blue rings round his wrists.
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