tch the object. Then as her feet once more touched the earth her
knees gave way, and she fell down with a moan of pain. Metem running on
towards her, as he went perceived a shape, which looked like that of a
black dwarf, slip from the shadow of the tree into some bushes beyond
where it was lost. Now he was there, to find Elissa half-seated,
half-lying on the ground, the prince Aziel bending over her, and fixed
through the palm of her right hand, which she held up piteously, a
little ivory-pointed arrow.

"Draw it out from the wound," he panted.

"It will not help me," she answered; "the arrow is poisoned."

With an exclamation, Metem knelt beside her, and, not heeding her groans
of pain, drew the dart through the pierced palm. Then he tore a strip
of linen from his robe, and knotting it round Elissa's wrist, he took a
broken stick that lay near and twisted the linen till it almost cut into
her flesh.

"Now, Prince," he said, "suck the wound, for I have no breath for it.
Fear not, lady, I know an antidote for this arrow poison, and presently
I will be back with the salve. Till then, if you would live, do not
suffer that bandage to be loosed, however much it pains you," and he
departed swiftly.

Aziel put his lips to the hurt to draw out the poison.

"Nay," she said faintly, trying to pull away her hand, "it is not
fitting, the venom may kill you."

"It seems that it was meant for me," he answered, "so at the worst I do
take but my own."

Presently, directing Elissa to hold her hand above her head, he put his
arms about her and carried her a hundred paces or more into the open
glade.

"Why do you move me?" she asked, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Because whoever it was that shot the arrow may return to try his
fortune a second time, and here in the open his darts cannot reach us."
Then he set her down upon the grass and stood looking at her.

"Listen, prince Aziel," Elissa said after a while, "the venom with which
these black men soak their weapons is very strong, and unless Metem's
salve be good, it may well chance that I shall die. Therefore before
I die I wish to say a word to you. What brought you to this place
to-night?"

"A letter from yourself, lady."

"I know it," she said, "but I did not write that letter; it was a snare,
set, as I think, by the king Ithobal, who would do you to death in this
way or in that. A messenger of his bribed my waiting-maid to deliver it,
and afterwards I learnt th