The same thing was put in another way by a prisoner, Kim Eung-pong.  He related a long story of torture by binding, hanging, beating and burning, continued for fifteen days, during which he was often threatened with death.  Then he was taken to the “supreme enquiry” office of the police headquarters, where he was stripped naked and beaten with an iron bar from the stove.  This office, he understood, had control and power of life or death over the whole peninsula, so he was compelled to confess all that they wanted.  “I even would have said that I killed my father, if they put it to me,” he added.

Hear the tale of An Sei-whan.  As An was called up in the Appeal Court, a wave of pity passed over the white men there, for An was a miserable object, pale and emaciated.  He was a consumptive and afflicted with other ills.  He had been in the Christian Hospital at Pyeng-yang most of the winter, and had nearly died there.  He had been walking a little for a few days, when he was arrested at the hospital in April.  He had been vomiting blood.

“In this condition I was taken to the police headquarters and tortured.  My thumbs were hung together and I was hung up, with my toes barely touching the ground.  I was taken down nearly dead, and made to stand for hours under a chest nearly as high as my chest.  Next day, when I was put under the shelf again my hair was fastened to the board, and my left leg doubled at the knee and tied.  Blood came up from my lung, but fearful of the police I swallowed it.  Now, I think it would have been better if I had vomited it.  Then they might have had pity on me; but I did not think so then.

“Again I was hung up by the thumbs, clear of the floor this time.  At the end of five minutes I was nearly dead.  I asked if it would do to assent to their questions, and they took me down and took me before some superiors.  When I said anything unsatisfactory I was beaten, and in this way learned what was wanted.  I had no wish to deny or admit anything, only to escape further pain.”

He asked that some of the missionaries who knew him might be called, to show that he was too ill to take part in any conspiracy.

One old man, Yi Chang-sik, a Presbyterian for sixteen years, had refused even under the torture to confess, and had tried to escape by suicide.  “I thought that I had better commit suicide than be killed by their cruel tortures,” he said.  “They asked me if I had joined the conspiracy at the suggestion of Mr. McCune.  I would not consent to this, so they tortured me harder.  I was nearly naked, and so cold water was poured upon me.  I was also beaten.  Sometimes I would be tortured till the early hours of the morning.

“I longed for death to deliver me.  Thanks to heaven, I found a knife one night in my room.  The warder was not very careful with me.  I took it secretly, intending to cut my throat—­but my hand had become too weak.  So I stuck it erect in the floor, and tried to cut my throat that way.  Alas!  At this moment the warder surprised me.  When I had endured torture for over forty days, I asked them to make me guilty or innocent as quickly as possible.  When I was taken to the Public Procurator’s, I had pains in my ears, body and limbs.  I could not stand the torture and wanted to die.”