human
Miles, my lad! cried Jack, springing up to greet his friend warmly,
gpt
I thought you was dead.
human
And, Jack, my dear friend, returned Miles,
gpt
I thought--at least I feared--that you must have been tortured to death.
human
An' you wasn't far wrong, my boy. Stand close to me, and look me straight in the eyes. D'ee think I'm any taller?
gpt
Not much--at least, not to my perception. Why?
human
I wonder at that, now, said Molloy,
gpt
You may laugh, lad, but it's no laughin' matter, said Molloy, feeling his neck tenderly.
human
The last time, I really thought it was all up wi' me, for the knot somehow got agin my windpipe an' I was all but choked. If they had kep' me up half a minute longer it would have bin all over: I a'most wished they had, for though I never was much troubled wi' the narves, I'm beginnin' now to have a little fellow-feelin' for the sufferin's o' the narvish.
gpt
Do you really mean, my dear fellow, that the monsters have been torturing you in this way?
human
Ay, John Miles, that's just what I does mean, returned the seaman, with an anxious and startled look at the door, on the other side of which a slight noise was heard at the moment.
gpt
They've half-hanged me three times already. The last time was only yesterday, an' at any moment they may come to give me another turn. It's the uncertainty o' the thing that tries my narves. I used to boast that I hadn't got none once, but the Arabs know how to take the boastin' out of a fellow. If they'd only take me out to be hanged right off an' done with it, I wouldn't mind it so much, but it's the constant tenter-hooks of uncertainty that floors me. Hows'ever, I ain't quite floored yet. But let's hear about yourself, Miles. Come, sit down. I gets tired sooner than I used to do since they took to hangin' me. How have they bin sarvin' you out since I last saw ye?
human
Not near so badly as they have been serving you, old boy,
gpt
But tell me, he added,
human
Nothing--at least nothing that I can trust to. I did hear that poor Moses Pyne is dead; that they had treated him the same as me, and that his narves couldn't stand it; that he broke down under the strain an' died. But I don't believe it. Not that these Arabs wouldn't kill him that way, but the interpreter who told me has got falsehood so plainly writ in his ugly face that I would fain hope our kind-hearted friend is yet alive.
gpt
God grant it may be so! said Miles fervently.
human
And I scarcely think that even the cruellest of men would persevere in torturing such a gentle fellow as Moses.
gpt
May-hap you're right, returned Molloy;
human
What is it, then?