fer me the left hand, Sir John?
that is neither according to the rules of medicine nor of courtesy."

"The right has already done its last act in your Highness's service,"
muttered the patient in a low and broken tone.

"How mean you by that?" said the Prince. "I am aware thy follower, Black
Quentin, lost a hand; but he can steal with the other as much as will
bring him to the gallows, so his fate cannot be much altered."

"It is not that fellow who has had the loss in your Grace's service: it
is I, John of Ramorny."

"You!" said the Prince; "you jest with me, or the opiate still masters
your reason."

"If the juice of all the poppies in Egypt were blended in one draught,"
said Ramorny, "it would lose influence over me when I look upon this."
He drew his right arm from beneath the cover of the bedclothes, and
extending it towards the Prince, wrapped as it was in dressings, "Were
these undone and removed," he said, "your Highness would see that a
bloody stump is all that remains of a hand ever ready to unsheath the
sword at your Grace's slightest bidding."

Rothsay started back in horror. "This," he said, "must be avenged!"

"It is avenged in small part," said Ramorny--"that is, I thought I saw
Bonthron but now; or was it that the dream of hell that first arose in
my mind when I awakened summoned up an image so congenial? Eviot, call
the miscreant--that is, if he is fit to appear."

Eviot retired, and presently returned with Bonthron, whom he had rescued
from the penance, to him no unpleasing infliction, of a second calabash
of wine, the brute having gorged the first without much apparent
alteration in his demeanour.

"Eviot," said the Prince, "let not that beast come nigh me. My soul
recoils from him in fear and disgust: there is something in his looks
alien from my nature, and which I shudder at as at a loathsome snake,
from which my instinct revolts."

"First hear him speak, my lord," answered Ramorny; "unless a wineskin
were to talk, nothing could use fewer words. Hast thou dealt with him,
Bonthron?"

The savage raised the axe which he still held in his hand, and brought
it down again edgeways.

"Good. How knew you your man? the night, I am told, is dark."

"By sight and sound, garb, gait, and whistle."

"Enough, vanish! and, Eviot, let him have gold and wine to his brutish
contentment. Vanish! and go thou with him."

"And whose death is achieved?" said the Prince, released from the
feelings of dis