rs every
day to the complaints, the lamentations, and the hundreds of requests
of his patients. But a few words from him had the power to encourage,
to comfort, to cheer and to influence the mood of his patients for the
whole day.

Suddenly the lawyer ceased to shiver, Michael Petroff began to laugh
happily, and Engelhardt withdrew his gaze from the point in the ceiling
and looked toward the half open door. He gazed so intently that his
small bright eyes seemed to squint.

"Listen! The Rajah is talking with him!" said Michael Petroff, holding
up his finger for silence.

"Nobody is watching you, my dear friend," said the Doctor's quiet
voice.

And a deep and almost gentler voice replied: "I heard the watchman
walking back and forth before my door all night, Sir. And I also heard
the drum when the watch was relieved."

"My friend," answered the Doctor, "You must have been dreaming."

"No," continued the man whom Michael Petroff had called the "Rajah," "I
excuse you, Sir, because I know that you are only doing your duty. But
your tact ought to prevent you from carrying out your precautions in
such an obvious way. I have given you my word of honor not to make any
attempt to escape. I want you to tell that to the English government,
by whose authority you are keeping me here in confinement. Neither have
I any weapons concealed in my room. I want you to search it."

"I know that perfectly well, my friend!"

"All the same, I want you to search."

And the "Rajah" would not be satisfied until the Doctor had promised
that his room should be searched immediately.

During this conversation Dr. Maerz had appeared in the doorway, with
the "Rajah" just behind him. Dr. Maerz was a small man, dressed in a
light-gray suit, with a ruddy beardless face and a quick, searching
but gentle eye, while the "Rajah" stood behind him, tall and dark,
and almost filling up the doorway. The "Rajah" had a long black beard
and a fearless, dark brown face, in which the whites of his eyes showed
strikingly.

The "Rajah" was simply a teacher, who had taught for a few years in
India in a German school. A protracted fever had caused an incipient
delusion, which, after his return to his native land, took entire
possession of him. He imagined himself to be an Indian prince, who had
been exiled by the English government.

He was extremely silent and reserved, and never talked with the other
patients. His bearing expressed an inscrutable calm and