IX.

ASIATIC HONOR.

One quick movement with the lancet made an incision across the red
specks left by the fangs of the cobra, and into the opening he poured a
teaspoonful of the yellowish fluid, which was so much like liquid fire
and pepper that even the dusky scoundrel gasped with agony. Then he
was made to open his mouth and swallow something from a large bottle,
which, as regards strength and flavor, was a twin of that which was
consuming his flesh.

All at once the countenance of the physician expanded with a beaming
smile as he looked at his patient and said gently as if speaking to his
own child:

"All danger is past, Almos."

From the abundance of rags which fluttered about his person, the doctor
tore a piece and bandaged the wound. Then he said in a business-like
tone:

"I am through; now you and the rest of you may go."

Almos hesitated.

"You have saved my life: is there nothing I can do for you?"

"I have just told you what to do--_leave_?"

Probably there would have been less promptness in complying with the
command had there been less in uttering it. As it was, Almos, without
a word, motioned to the rest of his band, and led the way down the path
in the direction of the stream, the four tramping after him like so
many ragged phantoms.

Dr. Marlowe was more eager to leave the place than he would permit his
child to know. He had no faith in Almos's promise, knowing that the
Ghoojur chieftain would break his oath, which he and his brother
fanatics did not consider binding when made to infidels, and the only
hope, therefore, was for the fugitives to conceal themselves from the
miscreants--a thing which the physician's intimate knowledge of the
country would enable him to do.

Footfalls sounded along the path over which the two had just come, and
a minute later Almos, Mustad and their three companions emerged into
the opening and approached the couple, one of whom suspected nothing
until her father spoke.

"Well, Almos, what do you want?" demanded Dr. Marlowe, calmly looking
up at the Ghoojur chieftain, as he paused in front of him and made a
salaam.

"We have come for the infidel and his daughter; our deen commands us to
put them to death."

"What does the oath you gave me a little while ago command you to do?"

"That was made to an infidel; it is not binding upon a true son of the
Prophet."

"A true son of the devil!" exclaimed the physician, unable to repress
his rage.

Turning