“Before I heal you,” replied Dr. Marlowe, with maddening deliberation, “I must be paid my fee; I have attended you before and refused to accept what you offered, but now I demand payment before applying the remedy.”

“You shall have it; name it, I beg you; all that I have shall be yours if you will save me, but haste, O great physician, haste!”

“It is strong, and will do its work well, if it be given the chance.”

He next drew out a lancet, with its edge like a razor’s.  Almos breathlessly watched him, but when he expected the doctor to begin work, he leaned back and said: 

“Why should I bring you back from death, when you are seeking the lives of my daughter and myself?  The best thing I can do is to let you die, as you will do in two minutes and a half more,” he added, looking again at his watch; “the venom of the cobra works fast and it will soon strike your heart.”

“You promised to save me if I would pay you in advance.

“So I will.”

“Name your fee; be quick with it!”

“It is that you and the rest of the Ghoojurs shall leave me and mine alone; that you shall depart at once; that you shall not attempt to follow, nor harm us in any way.  Without that pledge on your part, I shall let you die like the dog that you are.  What is your answer?”

“I promise; I promise!” exclaimed Almos, almost beside himself with excitement and renewed hope.  “I will guide you through the jungle to a safe point, and will watch over you till all danger is gone.”

“You have given me your promise, but you may break it; swear by the mantle of the Prophet, or I shall let you die.”

“I swear by the mantle of the Prophet!” the Ghoojur chieftain fairly shrieked, “that I will do as I have promised!  Quick, quick, or it will be too late!”

“You have made the most sacred vow that a Mussulman can make; I will test it by saving your life.”

CHAPTER XIX.

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.