The door opened, and in the dim light she saw Umballa.
He stood by the door, silently contemplating her.

"What a certain dungeon holds!" still eddied through the current of his thoughts.
Money, money! He needed it; it was the only barrier between him and the end, which at last he began to see.

Money, baskets and bags of it, and he dared not go near.

May the fires of hell burn eternally in the bones of these greedy soldiers, his only hope! His body ached; liquid fire seemed to have taken the place of blood in his veins.

His back and shoulders were a mass of bruises.