which his patient drank continuously. During the night the prince was
very restless, and groaned a good deal, so the boy resolved to sit up
and watch by the fire. Next morning Bladud was delirious, and as he
could not rise even to fetch from the door the water for which he
thirsted, Cormac resolved to disobey orders and risk the consequences.
Entering the hut, therefore, and sitting down beside the patient, he
tended him for many days and nights--taking what rest he could obtain by
snatches beside the camp-fire.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
THE PIGS' CURE.
It was not long before our hero recovered from his delirium. Leading,
as he had been doing, an abstemious and healthy life, ordinary disease
could not long maintain its grasp of him. His superabundant life seemed
to cast it off with the ease with which his physical frame was able to
cast aside human foes. But he could not thus shake off the leprosy.
One of the first things he did on recovering consciousness was to
uncover his arm. The fatal spot had increased considerably in size.
With something of a shudder he looked round his little hut, endeavouring
to remember where he was and to recall recent events. He was alone at
the time, and he fancied the fight with the robbers and rescue of the
boy must have been all a dream. The name Cormac, however, puzzled him
not a little. Many a time before that had he dreamed of vivid scenes
and thrilling incidents, but never in his recollection had he dreamt a
name!
Being thoughtfully disposed, he lay meditating listlessly on this point
in that tranquil frame of mind which often accompanies convalescence,
and had almost fallen asleep when a slight noise outside awoke him. The
curtain-door was lifted, and Cormac, entering, sat quietly down on a
block of wood beside him.
Bladud became suddenly aware that he had not been dreaming, but he did
not move. Through his slightly opened eyelids he watched the lad while
he mixed some berries in a cup of water. As he lay thus silently
observant, he was deeply impressed with the handsome countenance of his
nurse and the graceful movements of his slight figure.
Presently the thought of his disease recurred to him--it was seldom,
indeed, absent from his mind--and the strict injunctions which he had
given to his young companion.
"Boy!--boy!" he cried suddenly, with a vigour that caused the boy to
start off his seat and almost capsize the cup, "did I not forbid you to
enter my hut or to touch me?"
At first Cormac looked alarmed, but, seeing that a decided change for
the better had taken place in his patient, his brow smoothed and he
laughed softly.
"How dared you to disobey me?" exclaimed Bladud again in stern tones.
"I dared because I saw you were unable to prevent me," returned the lad,
with a quiet smile. "Besides, you were too ill to feed yourself, so, of
course, I had to do it for you. Do you suppose I am so ungrateful to
the man who saved my life as to stand aside and let him die for want of
a helping hand? Come, now, be reasonable and let me give you this
drink." He approached as he spoke.
"Keep off!--keep off, I say," shouted the prince in a voice so resolute
that Cormac was fain to obey. "It is bad enough to come into my hut,
but you _must not_ touch me!"
"Why not?--I have touched you already."
"How! when?"
"I have lifted your head many a time to enable you to drink when you
could not lift it yourself."
A groan escaped Bladud.
"Then it is too late! Look at this," he cried, suddenly uncovering his
arm.
"What is that?" asked the boy, with a look of curiosity.
"It is--leprosy!"
"I am not afraid of leprosy!"
"Not afraid of it!" exclaimed the prince, "that may well be, for you
have the air of one who fears nothing; but it will kill you for all
that, unless the Maker of all defends you, for it is a dread--a
terrible--disease that no strength can resist or youth throw off. It
undermines the health and eats the flesh off the bones, renders those
whom it attacks horrible to look at, and in the end it kills them. But
it is possible that you may not yet have caught the infection, poor lad,
so you must keep away from me now, and let not a finger touch me
henceforth. Your life, I say, may depend on it."
"I will obey you as to that," replied Cormac, "now that you are
beginning to recover, but I must still continue to put food and water
within your reach."
"Be it so," rejoined the prince, turning away with a slight groan, for
his excitement not less than the conversation had exhausted him. In a
few minutes more he was asleep with an expression of profound anxiety
stereotyped on his countenance.
It was not long after the fever left him that returning strength enabled
Bladud to crawl out of his hut, and soon after that he was able to
ramble through the woods in company with Cormac, and with Brownie--that
faithful friend who had lain by his master's side during all his
illness. The sparkling river gladdened the eyes, and the bracing air
and sunshine strengthened the frame of the prince, so that with the
cheerful conversation of Cormac and the gambols of his canine friend he
was sometimes led to forget for a time the dark cloud that hung over
him.
One day he was struck by something in the appearance of his dog, and,
sitting down on a bank, he called it to him. After a few minutes'
careful examination he turned to Cormac with a look of deep anxiety.
"My boy," he said, "I verily believe that the hound is smitten with my
own complaint. In his faithful kindness he has kept by me until I have
infected him."
"That cannot be," returned Cormac, "for, during my rambles alone, when
you were too ill to move, I saw that a great many of the pigs were
affected by a skin disease something like that on the dog, and, you
know, you could not have infected the pigs, for you have never touched
them."
Bladud's anxiety was not removed but deepened when he heard this, for he
called to remembrance the occasion when he had rescued one of the little
pigs and carried it for some distance in his arms.
"And, do you know," continued the lad, "I have observed a strange thing.
I have seen that many of the pigs, affected with this complaint, have
gone down to the place where the hot waters rise, and, after bathing
there, have returned all covered with mud, and these pigs seem to have
got better of the disease, while many of those which did not go down to
the swamp have died."
"That is strange indeed," returned the prince; "I must see to this, for
if these waters cure the pigs, why not the dog?"
"Ay," rejoined Cormac, "and why not the man?"
"Because my disease is well known to be incurable."
"Are you sure?"
"We can hardly be sure of anything, not even of killing our mid-day
meal," rejoined the prince. "See, there goes a bird that is big enough
to do for both of us. Try your hand."
"That will be but losing an opportunity, for, as you know, I am not a
good marksman," returned the youth, fitting an arrow quickly to his bow
nevertheless, and discharging it. Although the bird in question was
large and not far off, the arrow missed the mark, but startled the bird
so that it took wing. Before it had risen a yard from the ground,
however, an arrow from Bladud's bow transfixed it.
That night, after the bird had been eaten, when Brownie was busy with
the scraps, and Cormac had retired to his couch in the firewood booth,
Bladud lay in his hut unable to sleep because of what he had heard and
seen that day. "Hope springs eternal in the human breast"--not less in
the olden time than now. At all events it welled up in the breast of
the royal outcast with unusual power as he waited anxiously for the
first dawn of day.
Up to this time, although living within a few miles of it, the prince
had not paid more than one or two visits to the Hot Swamp, because birds
and other game did not seem to inhabit the place, and the ground was
difficult to traverse. He had, of course, speculated a good deal as to
the cause of the springs, but had not come to any conclusions more
satisfactory than have been arrived at by the scientific minds of modern
days. That heat of some sort was the cause applied in one fashion or
another to the water so as to make it almost boil he had no manner of
doubt, but what caused the heat he could not imagine, and it certainly
did not occur to him that the interior of the earth was a lake of fire--
the lovely world of vision being a mere crust. At least, if it did, he
was never heard to say so.
But now he went down to the swamp with a renewed feeling of hope that
gave fresh impulse to his heart and elasticity to his tread.
Arrived at the place, he observed that numbers of his porcine family
were there before him. On seeing him they retreated with indignant
grunts--their hasty retreat being accelerated by a few remarks from
Brownie.
Making his way to what he believed to be the main fountain of the
spring, the prince and the dog stood contemplating it for some time.
Then the former dipped his hand in, but instantly withdrew it, for he
found the water to be unbearably hot. Following its course, however,
and testing it as he went along, he soon came to a spot where the
temperature was sufficiently cool to render it agreeable. Here, finding
a convenient hole big enough to hold him, he stripped and bathed.
Brownie, who seemed much interested and enlivened by his master's
proceedings, joined him on invitation, and appeared to enjoy himself
greatly. Thereafter they returned home to breakfast and found Cormac
already up and roasting venison ribs before the fire.
"I thought you were still sound asleep in your hut," he said in
surprise, as they came up, "and I have been doing my best to make little
noise, for fear of awaking you. Have you been bathing at the springs?
I see the hound's coat is muddy."
"Thanks for your care, Cormac. Ay, we have indeed had a bath--Brownie
and I. You see I have taken your advice, and am trying the pigs' cure."
"Right, Bladud. Wiser men have learned lessons from pigs."
"Are you not presumptuous, my lad, to suggest that there may be a wiser
man than I?"
"Truly, no, for taking the advice of a mere stripling like me, is not a
sign of wisdom in a man."
"In the present case you are perhaps right, but there are some
striplings whose wisdom is sufficient to guide men. However, I will
hope that even you, with all your presumption, may be right this time."
"That encourages me to offer additional advice," retorted the lad with a
laugh, "namely, that you should devote your attention to these ribs, for
you will find them excellent, and even a full-grown man can hardly fail
to know that without food no cure can be effected."
"You are right, my boy. Sit down and set me an example, for youth, not
less than age, must be supported."
Without more words they set to work, first throwing a bone to the hound,
in order, as Bladud remarked, that they might all start on equal terms.
From that day the health of the prince began to mend--slowly but
steadily the spot on his arm also began to diminish and to assume a more
healthy aspect. Brownie also became convalescent, and much to the joy
of Bladud, Cormac showed no symptoms of having caught the disease.
Still, as a precaution, they kept studiously apart, and the prince
observed--and twitted the boy with the fact--that the more he gained in
health, and the less danger there was of infection, the more anxious did
he seem to be to keep away from him!
Things were in this state when, one evening, they received a visit--
which claims a new chapter to itself.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
IN WHICH VERY PERPLEXING EVENTS OCCUR.
The visitor referred to in the last chapter was a tall, broad-shouldered
old man with a snowy head of hair and a flowing white beard, a long,
loose black garment, and a stout staff about six feet long.
Cormac had gone to a spring for water at the time he arrived, and Bladud
was lying on his back inside his hut.
"Is any one within?" demanded the stranger, lifting a corner of the
curtain.
"Enter not here, whoever you are!" replied the prince quickly, springing
up--"stay--I will come out to you."
"You are wonderfully inhospitable," returned the stranger, as the prince
issued from the hut and stood up with an inquiring look which suddenly
changed to one of astonishment.
"Beniah!" he exclaimed.
"Even so," replied the Hebrew, holding out his hand, but Bladud drew
back.
"What! will you neither permit me to enter your house nor shake your
hand? I was not so churlish when you visited my dwelling."
"You know well, old man, that I do not grudge hospitality, but fear to
infect you."
"Yes, I know it well," rejoined the Hebrew, smiling, "and knowing that
you were here, I turned aside on my journey to inquire as to your
welfare."
"I have much to say about my welfare and strange things to tell you, but
first let me know what has brought you to this part of the land--for if
you have turned aside to see me--seeing me has not been your main
object."
"You are right. Yet it pleases me well to use this opportunity, and to
see by your looks and bearing, that the disease seems to have been
arrested."
"Yes, thanks be to the All-seeing One, I am well, or nearly so. But
proceed to explain the reason of your journey."
"The cause of it is the unaccountable disappearance of the girl named
Branwen."
"What! she who is the bosom friend of my sister Hafrydda?"
"The same. She had fled, you may remember, from your father's court for
fear of being compelled to wed with Gunrig, the chief whose crown you
cracked so deftly on the day of your arrival. She, poor thing, took
refuge at first with me. I hid her for some time--"
"Then," interrupted the prince, "she must have been hidden in your hut
at the time of my visit!"
"She was. But that was no business of yours."
"Surely it was, old man, for my father's business is my business."
"Yea, but it was not my business to enlighten you, or the king either,
while I had reason to know that he meant unduly to coerce the maiden.
However, there she was hidden, as I tell you. Now, you are aware that
Branwen's father Gadarn is a great chief, whose people live far away in
the northern part of Albion. I bade Branwen remain close in my hut, in
a secret chamber, while I should go and acquaint her father with her
position, and fetch him down with a strong band of his retainers to
rescue her. You should have seen the visage of Gadarn, when I told him
the news. A wild boar of the woods could scarce have shown his tusks
more fiercely. He not only ordered an armed band to get ready,
instantly, but he roused the whole country around, and started off that
same day with all his followers armed to the teeth. Of course I led
them. In due course we arrived at my hut, when--lo! I found that the
bird was flown!"
"I could see by the appearance of things," continued the Hebrew, "that
the foolish girl had left of her own will, for there was no evidence of
violence anywhere--which would doubtless have been the case if robbers
had found her and carried her away, for they would certainly have
carried off some of my goods along with her. The rage of her father on
making this discovery was terrible. He threatened at once to cut off my
old head, and even drew his sword with intent to act the part of
executioner. But I reminded him that if he did so, he would cut off the
only head that knew anything about his daughter, and that I had still
some knowledge regarding her with which he was not acquainted.
"This arrested his hand just in time, for I actually fancied that I had
begun to feel the edge of his sword slicing into my spinal marrow. When
he had calmed himself enough to listen, I told him that Branwen had
spoken about paying a visit to the Hot Springs--that I knew she was bent
on going there, for some reason that I could not understand, and that I
thought it more than likely she had gone. `Axe-men, to the front! Form
long line! hooroo!' yelled the chief--(or something of that sort, for
I'm a man of peace, and don't understand warlike orders), and away went
the whole host at a run, winding through the forest like a great snake;
Gadarn and I leading them, except when the thickets became impenetrable,
and then the axe-men were ordered to the front and soon broke them down.
And so, in course of time, we came within a few miles of the Hot Swamp,
and--and, as I have said, I have been permitted to turn aside to visit
you."
"Truly a strange tale," remarked the prince. "And is the armed host of
Gadarn actually within a few miles of us?"
"It is; and, to say truth, I have come out to search for you chiefly to
inquire whether you have seen any young woman at all resembling Branwen
during your wanderings in this region?"
The Hebrew looked keenly at the prince as he put this question.
"You forget I have never seen this girl, and, therefore, could not know
her even if I had met her. But, in truth, I have not seen any woman,
young or old, since I came here. Nor have I seen any human being save
my mad master, Konar, and a poor youth whom I rescued some time ago from
the hands of robbers. He has nursed me through a severe illness, and is
even now with me. But what makes you think that Branwen intended to
come to the Swamp?"
"Because--because, she had reasons of her own. I do not profess to
understand the workings of a young girl's mind," answered the Hebrew.
"And what will you do," said Bladud, "now that you find she has not been
here? Methinks that when Gadarn hears of your failure to find her at
the Swamp, your spinal marrow and his sword will still stand a good
chance of becoming acquainted."
The Hebrew looked perplexed, but, before he could answer, Brownie came
bounding gaily round the corner of the hut. Seeing a stranger, he
stopped suddenly, displayed his teeth and growled.
"Down, pup! He is not accustomed to visitors, you see," said his master
apologetically.
At that moment Cormac turned the corner of the hut, bearing an earthen
jar of water on his shoulder. His eyes opened wide with surprise, so
did those of the Hebrew, and the jar dropped to the ground, where it
broke, and Brownie, quick to see and seize his opportunity, began to lap
its contents. The prince--also wide-eyed--gazed from one to the other.
It was a grand _tableau vivant_!
The first to recover himself and break the spell was Cormac. Leaping
forward, he grasped the old man by the hand, and turning so as to
present his back to Bladud, gave the Hebrew a look so powerfully
significant that that son of Israel was quite disconcerted.
"My old, kind friend--is it--can it--be really yourself? So far from
home--so unexpected! It makes me so glad to see you," said the youth.
Then, turning to Bladud, "A very old friend of mine, who helped me once
in a time of great distress. I am so rejoiced, for now he will guide me
back to my own home. You know I have sometimes talked of leaving you
lately, Bladud."
"You say truth, my young friend. Frequently of late, since I have been
getting well, you have hinted at a wish to go home, though you have not
yet made it clear to me where that home is; and sad will be the day when
you quit me. I verily believe that I should have died outright, Beniah,
but for the kind care of this amiable lad. But it is selfish of me to
wish you to stay--especially now that you have found a friend who, it
would seem, is both able and willing to guard you through the woods in
safety. Yet, now I think, my complaint is so nearly cured that I might
venture to do that myself."
"Not so," returned the lad, quickly. "You are far from cured yet. To
give up using the waters at this stage of the cure would be fatal. It
would perhaps let the disease come back as bad as before."
"Nay, but the difficulty lies here," returned the prince, smiling at the
boy's eagerness. "This good old man is at present engaged as guide to
an army, and dare not leave his post. A foolish girl named Branwen fled
some time ago from my father's house, intending, it is supposed, to go
to some friends living not far from the Hot Swamp. They have been
searching for her in all directions, and at last her father, with a host
at his heels, has been led to within a few miles of this place, but the
girl has not yet been discovered; so the search will doubtless be
continued."
"Is that so?" asked Cormac of the Hebrew, pointedly.
"It is so."
"What is the name of the chief whose daughter has been _so foolish_ as
to run away from her friends?"
"Gadarn," answered Beniah.
"Oh! I know him!" exclaimed Cormac in some excitement, "and I know many
of his people. I lived with them once, long, long ago. How far off is
the camp, did you say?"
"An hour's walk or so."
"In _that_ direction?" asked Cormac, pointing.
"Yes, in that direction."
"Then I will go and see them," said the lad, picking up his bow and
arrows. "You can wait here till I come back, Beniah, and keep Bladud
company--for he is accustomed to company now! Who knows but I may pick
up this _foolish_ girl on my way to the camp!"
The lad hurried into the woods without waiting a reply; but he had not
gone a hundred yards when he turned and shouted, "Hi, Beniah!" at the
same time beckoning with his hand.
The Hebrew hurried towards him.
"Beniah," said the lad impressively, as he drew near, "go back and
examine Bladud's arm, and let me know when we meet again what you think
of it."
"But how--why--wherefore came you--?" exclaimed the Hebrew, pausing in
perplexity.
"Ask no questions, old man," returned the youth with a laugh. "There is
no time to explain--. He will suspect--robbers--old mother--bad son--
escape--boy's dress--fill up that story if you can! More hereafter.
But--observe, if you say one word about _me to anybody_, Gadarn's sword
is sharp and his arm strong! You promise?"
"I promise."
"Solemnly--on your word as a Hebrew?"
"Solemnly--on my word as a Hebrew. But--?"
With another laugh the boy interrupted him, turned, and disappeared in
the woods.
"A strange, though a good and affectionate boy," remarked Bladud when
the Hebrew returned. "What said he?"
"He bade me examine your arm, and tell him what I think of it on his
return."
"That is of a piece with all the dear boy's conduct," returned the
prince. "You have no idea what a kind nurse he has been to me, at a
time when I was helpless with fever. Indeed, if I had not been helpless
and delirious, I would not have allowed him to come near me. You have
known him before, it seems?"
"Yes; I have known him for some time."
From this point the prince pushed the Hebrew with questions, which the
latter--bearing in remembrance the sharpness of Gadarn's sword, and the
solemnity of his promise--did his best to evade, and eventually
succeeded in turning the conversation by questioning Bladud as to his
intercourse with the hunter of the Swamp, and his mode of life since his
arrival in that region. Then he proceeded to examine the arm
critically.
"It is a wonderful cure," he said, after a minute inspection. "Almost
miraculous."
"Cure!" exclaimed the prince. "Do you, then, think me cured?"
"Indeed I do--at least, very nearly so. I have had some experience of
your complaint in the East, and it seems to me that a perfect cure is at
most certain--if it has not been already effected."
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
DESCRIBES AN ARDENT SEARCH.
While the prince and the Hebrew were thus conversing, Cormac was
speeding towards the camp of Gadarn. He quickly arrived, and was
immediately arrested by one of the sentinels. Taken before one of the
chief officers, he was asked who he was, and where he came from.
"That I will tell only to your chief," said the lad.
"_I_ am a chief," replied the officer proudly.
"That may be so; but I want to speak with _your_ chief, and I must see
him alone."
"Assuredly thou art a saucy knave, and might be improved by a
switching."
"Possibly; but instead of wasting our time in useless talk, it would be
well to convey my message to Gadarn, for my news is urgent; and I would
not give much for your head if you delay."
The officer laughed; but there was that in the boy's tone and manner
that induced him to obey.
Gadarn, the chief, was seated on a tree-stump inside of a booth of
boughs, leaves, and birch-bark, that had been hastily constructed for
his accommodation. He was a great, rugged, north-country man, of
immense physical power--as most chiefs were in those days. He seemed to
be brooding over his sorrows at the time his officer entered.
"A prisoner waits without," said the officer. "He is a stripling; and
says he has urgent business to communicate to you alone."
"Send him hither, and let every one get out of ear-shot!" said Gadarn
gruffly.