Jack Vettriano Painting

Jack Vettriano Painting
The boy struggled helplessly in his bonds; and at the same time forced a smothered sound through his closed jaws, which the hermit chose to interpret as an affirmative answer to his question.
"Then pray again. Pray the prayer for the dying!"
A shudder shook the boy's frame, and his face blenched. Then he struggled again to free himself-turning and twisting himself this way and that; tugging frantically, fiercely, desperately-but uselessly-to burst his fetters; and all the while the old ogre smiled down upon him
Jack Vettriano Painting
and nodded his head, and placidly whetted his knife, mumbling, from time to time, "The moments are precious, they are few and precious-pray the prayer for the dying!"
The boy uttered a despairing groan, and ceased from his struggles, panting. The tears came, then, and trickled, one after the other, down his face; but this piteous sight wrought no softening effect upon the savage old man.
Jack Vettriano Painting