The echo of that laugh resounded hollowly in the dismal place and must
have notified the supreme master of this underground world that his
domain had been invaded.
A metallic clanging in the distance, as of struck anvils, a crunching,
as the smaller rocks broke in twain under the enormous weight of the
iron monster, then far, far down the passageway two points of fire--the
eyes of the thing--and with arms swinging like flails, from out the
passageway there stalked--the Automaton.
Even the emissaries, slaves to this monster through fear, and seeing it
often, fell back in awe and consternation, so terrible was its menace.
It strode over to Flint and, pushing him backward, glared at him with
burning eyes that seemed to search his soul. The monster then turned to
one of the emissaries and, with a sweeping gesture, gave a command.
The emissary understood and immediately ran up one of the passageways,
returning in a few moments with a bottle which contained a purplish
mixture. At another sign from the Automaton the emissary took a
drinking-glass and poured out a portion of the purple fluid. Then he
forced the draught between Flint's clenched teeth.
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