terrupted
the beggar, "and all the multitude would come after, from the babe on
the mat to the old man by the Palace gates. But if the sick man lives--"

The Governor looked at his son partly in admiration, partly in pain, and
maybe a little of anger.

"Is there no one else? I tell you I--"

"There is no one else; the lad or death for the city! I can believe the
young; the old have deceived me," interposed the beggar again.

"Time passes," said Cumner's Son anxiously. "The man may die. You say
yes to my going, sir?" he asked his father.

The Governor frowned, and the skin of his cheeks tightened.

"Go-go, and good luck to you, boy." He made as if to ride on, but
stopped short, flung out his hand, and grasped the hand of his son. "God
be with you, lad," said he; then his jaws closed tightly, and he rode
on. It was easier for the lad than for him.

When he told the story to Pango Dooni the chief was silent for a moment;
then he said:

"Until we know whether it be death or life, whether Cumner's Son save
the city or lose his life for its sake, we will not call the people
together in the Hall of the Heavenly Hours. I will send the heralds
abroad, if it be thy pleasure, Cumner."

At noon--the hour when the people had been bidden to cry, "Live, Prince
of the Everlasting Glory!"--they were moving restlessly, fearfully
through the Bazaar and the highways, and watching from a distance a
little white house, with blue curtains, where lay the man who was sick
with the Red Plague, and where watched beside his bed Cumner's Son and
the beggar of Nangoon. No one came near.

From the time the sick man had been brought into the house, the beggar
had worked with him, giving him tinctures which he boiled with sweetmeat
called the Flower of Bambaba, while Cumner's Son rubbed an ointment into
his body. Now and again the young man went to the window and looked
out at the lines of people hundreds of yards away, and the empty spaces
where the only life that showed was a gay-plumaged bird that drifted
across the sunlight, or a monkey that sat in the dust eating a nut. All
at once the awe and danger of his position fell upon him. Imagination
grew high in him in a moment--that beginning of fear and sorrow
and heart-burning; yet, too, the beginning of hope and wisdom and
achievement. For the first time in his life that knowledge overcame him
which masters us all sometimes. He had a desire to fly the place; he
felt like running from the