Now the porter at the gate observes that the leper has a very beautiful cup, exactly resembling a drinking cup belonging to his master, and he thinks it his duty to tell these things to the lord of the castle.  And the lord of the castle remembers that very long ago he and his friend each had a cup of this kind, given to them by the bishop of Rome.  So, hearing the porter’s story, he knew that the leper at the gate was the friend who “had delivered him from death, and won for him the daughter of the King of France to be his wife.”  Here I had better quote from the French version of the story, in which the names of the friends are changed, but without changing the beauty of the tale itself: 

“And straightway he fell upon him, and began to weep greatly, and kissed him.  And when his wife heard that, she ran out with her hair in disarray, weeping and distressed exceedingly—­for she remembered that it was he who had slain the false Ardres.  And thereupon they placed him in a fair bed, and said to him, ’Abide with us until God’s will be accomplished in thee, for all that we have is at thy service.’  So he abode with them.”

You must understand, by the allusion to “God’s will,” that leprosy was in the Middle Ages really considered to be a punishment from heaven—­so that in taking a leper into his castle, the good friend was not only offending against the law of the land, but risking celestial punishment as well, according to the notions of that age.  His charity, therefore, was true charity indeed, and his friendship without fear.  But it was going to be put to a test more terrible than any ever endured before.  To comprehend what followed, you must know that there was one horrible superstition of the Middle Ages—­the belief that by bathing in human blood the disease of leprosy might be cured.  Murders were often committed under the influence of that superstition.  I believe you will remember that the “Golden Legend” of Longfellow is founded upon a mediaeval story in which a young girl voluntarily offers up her life in order that her blood may cure the leprosy of her king.  In the present romance there is much more tragedy.  One night while sleeping in his friend’s castle, the leper was awakened by an angel from God—­Raphael—­who said to him: 

“I am Raphael, the angel of the Lord, and I am come to tell thee how thou mayst be healed.  Thou shalt bid Amile thy comrade that he slay his two children and wash thee in their blood, and so thy body shall be made whole.”  And Amis said to him, “Let not this thing be, that my comrade should become a murderer for my sake.”  But the angel said, “It is convenient that he do this.”  And thereupon the angel departed.