f. During this
what we may style semi-convalescent period, Captain Arkal and little
Maikar proved of great use and comfort to him, for they not only brought
him information about the games--which were still kept up--but cheered
him with gossipy news of the town in general, and with interesting
reminiscences of their late voyage and the Eastern lands they had so
recently left.

One day these faithful friends, as well as the queen and princess, were
sitting by Bladud's couch--to which unaccountable fits of laziness
confined him a good deal--when the medicine-man was announced.

He proceeded at once to examine the patient, while the others stood
aside and looked on with that profound respect which ignorance
sometimes, though not always, assumes in the presence of knowledge.

The doctor laid his hand on Bladud's brow, and looked earnestly into his
eyes. Then he tapped his back and chest, as if to induce some one in
his interior to open a door and let him in--very much as doctors do
now-a-days. Then he made him remove his upper garments, and examined
his broad and brawny shoulders. A mark, or spot, of a whitish
appearance between the left shoulder and the elbow, at once riveted his
attention, and caused an almost startled expression on his grave
countenance. But the expression was momentary. It passed away and left
the visage grave and thoughtful--if possible, more thoughtful than
before.

"That will do," he said, turning to the queen. "Your treatment was the
best that could have been applied. I must now see his father, the
king."

"Alone?" asked the queen.

"Alone," replied the doctor.

"Well, what think ye of Bladud?" asked the king, when his physician
entered his chamber, and carefully shut the door.

"He is smitten with a fatal disease," said the doctor in a low, earnest
voice.

"Not absolutely fatal?" cried the king, with sudden anxiety.

"As far as I know it is so. There is no cure that I ever heard of.
Bladud is smitten with leprosy. It may be years before it kills him,
but it will surely do so at last."

"Impossible--impossible!" cried the king, becoming fierce and
unbelieving in his horror. "You are too confident, my medicine-man.
You may, you must, be mistaken. There is a cure for everything!"

"Not for leprosy," returned the doctor, with sad but firm emphasis. "At
least I never heard of a cure being effected, except by some of the
Eastern wise men."

"Then, by all the gods that prote