your eyes; are they for me or only for my pain?"

"For you, good noble man! my friend and my preserver!" said Uarda. "For
you dear, poor Nebsecht!" The leech closed his eyes as she spoke these
words with earnest feeling, but he looked up once more as she ceased
speaking, and gazed at her with tender admiration; then he said softly:

"It is enough--now I can die."

Uarda left the tent, Pentaur remained with him listening to his hoarse
and difficult breathing; suddenly:

Nebsecht raised himself, and said: "Farewell, my friend,--my journey is
beginning, who knows whither?"

"Only not into vacancy, not to end in nothingness!" cried Pentaur warmly.

The leech shook his head. "I have been something," he said, "and being
something I cannot become nothing. Nature is a good economist, and
utilizes the smallest trifle; she will use me too according to her need.
She brings everything to its end and purpose in obedience to some rule
and measure, and will so deal with me after I am dead; there is no waste.
Each thing results in being that which it is its function to become; our
wish or will is not asked--my head! when the pain is in my head I cannot
think--if only I could prove--could prove----"

The last words were less and less audible, his breath was choked, and in
a few seconds Pentaur with deep regret closed his eyes.