and he made the blade
glitter and flash by agitating his hand.

It had the desired effect, for the head was raised sharply from the
lad's arm till it was six or seven inches above it, and the reptile
seemed to be attracted for a moment by the bright light flashing from
the steel.

Then the head was drawn back sharply, and darted forward as Ned
expected, and with a slight jerk from the wrist he flicked the blade
from left to right.

"Hah!" he cried joyfully, as the head dropped at his feet, and the long
thin body writhed free from the lad's hand and wrist; "a razor couldn't
have took it off cleaner. Hurray, Mr Jack! He half killed himself.
But don't--don't stand like that. You're not hurt bad, are you?"

"Here, let me look," cried the doctor, who had now climbed up to where
they stood, closely followed by Sir John. "Snake, was it?"

"Yes, sir; there's his body tying itself up in knots, and here's his
head."

As he spoke, the man stooped down quickly, made a dig with the point of
his knife, and transfixed the cut-off portion through the neck just at
the back of the skull, and the jaws gaped widely as he held it up in
triumph.

"Here, let me see," cried Sir John excitedly. "Yes, look, Instow, the
swollen glands at the back of the jaw, and here they are like bits of
glass--the poison fangs. Jack, lad, where did it strike you?"

"Strike me?" said the lad feebly, and shuddering slightly, as he stood
with his eyes half-closed, and dropped the cluster of orchids.

"Yes; speak out, quick!" cried the doctor, grasping the lad by the arm.
"Where are you hurt?"

"Twined round my hand, and bit at my arm twice--just there."

He stood pointing dreamily at the thickest part of his forearm, just
where the jacket-sleeve went into wrinkles through the bending of the
joint.

"Yes, I see," cried the doctor. "Here, Ned, man, jump down there and
get my flask. You'll find it in my coat. A plated one full of
ammonia."

Ned leaped in a break-neck way down the lava wall, and the doctor forced
his patient into a sitting position and stripped off his jacket. Then
he snapped off the wrist button and turned up the shirt-sleeve, to begin
examining the white skin for the tiny punctures made by the two bites,
while Sir John knelt by him, supporting his son, who looked very white
and strange, and as if he were trying to master the sense of horror from
which he now suffered.

"See the places?" said Sir John hoarsely.

"No,"