He was lying on the sofa, eating his moustache and wondering what the darkness of the night would be like.

Then came to his mind the memory of a quaint scene in the Soudan.
A soldier had been nearly hacked in two by a broad-bladed Arab spear.
For one instant the man felt no pain.

Looking down, he saw that his life-blood was going from him.

The stupid bewilderment on his face was so intensely comic that both Dick and Torpenhow, still panting and unstrung from a fight for life, had roared with laughter, in which the man seemed as if he would join, but, as his lips parted in a sheepish grin, the agony of death came upon him, and he pitched grunting at their feet.

Dick laughed again, remembering the horror.