they had bitten into blood, was the face of a ghoul.

The powerful Pindari struggled in smothering desperation; and Hunsa,
twisting the gorilla hands, sought in vain to break the neck--it was
too strong.

Then the chair careened sidewise, and the Pindari shot downward, his
forehead striking a marble slab, stunning him. Hunsa, with the
death-grip still on the roomal, planted a knee between the victim's
shoulder-blades, and jerked the head upward--still the spine did not
snap; and slowly tightening the pressure of the cloth he smothered the
man beneath his knee till he felt the muscles go slack and the body lie
limp--dead!

Then Hunsa crossed the _roomal_ in his left hand, and stretching out
his right grasped the Chief's dagger where it lay upon the floor, and
drove it, from behind, through his heart. He placed the knife upon the
floor where drops of blood, trickling from its curved point, lay upon
the white marble like spilled rubies. He unfastened the silver chain
that carried the keys and crossed the floor with the slouching crouch
of a hyena. Rapidly he opened the iron box, took the paper Amir Khan
had placed there, and hesitated for a second, his ghoulish eyes
gloating over the jewels and gold; but he did not touch them, his
animal cunning holding him to the simple plan that was now working so
smoothly. He locked the box and slipped the key-chain about the dead
man's waist; then seizing the right hand of his victim he smeared the
thumb in blood and imprinted it upon the paper just beside the seal of
the British Raj, muttering: "This will do for Nana Sahib as well as
your head, Pindari, and is much easier hidden."