Jeremy looked at the burly planter out of sullen, almost defiant
eyes.

"I don't know," he said, and in his voice there was a faint note at
least of the defiance aroused in him by a blow which he dared not,
for his life's sake, return. His body had remained unyielding under
it, but the spirit within writhed now in torment.

"You don't know? Well, here's to quicken your wits." Again the cane
descended. "Have you thought of his name yet?"

"I have not."

"Stubborn, eh?" For a moment the Colonel leered. Then his passion
mastered him. "'Swounds! You impudent dog! D'you trifle with me?
D'you think I'm to be mocked?"

Pitt shrugged, shifted sideways on his feet again, and settled into
dogged silence. Few things are more provocative; and Colonel Bishop's
temper was never one that required much provocation. Brute fury now
awoke in him. Fiercely now he lashed those defenceless shoulders,
accompanying each blow by blasphemy and foul abuse, until, stung
beyond endurance, the lingering embers of his manhood fanned into
momentary flame, Pitt sprang upon his tormentor.

But as he sprang, so also sprang the watchful blacks. Muscular
bronze arms coiled crushingly about the frail white body, and in a
moment the unfortunate slave stood powerless, his wrists pinioned
behind him in a leathern thong.