I glanced at him as the lashers stripped and bound him.

He sent back at me a glance which said, as plain as words: "I am to blame.

I know you are sorry for me.

But give no sign, I must go through this alone." And I had to sit there while the head-lasher flogged him till the pavement on which he lay was all a pool of gore, till his back was in tatters from neck to hips, till he was carried off, insensible, perhaps dead.
Also I had to express my approbation of Nemestronia's orders, and had to sit there and chat with the ladies, seven of whom were inclined to be facetious over the figure I had cut sprawling on the mosaic walk, tussling with that abominable leopard.

They thanked me for saving their lives, or at least, the life of some one of them.