To tie up my bonnie brown hair."

He was startled. At first he thought it might be an Englishman in
disguise, but the brown of the beggar's face was real, and there was no
mistaking the high narrow forehead, the slim fingers, and the sloe-black
eyes. Yet he seemed not a native of Mandakan. McDermot was about to ask
him who he was, when there was a rattle of horse's hoofs, and Cumner's
Son galloped excitedly up the court-yard.

"Captain, captain," said he, "the Red Plague is on the city!"

McDermot staggered back in consternation. "No, no," cried he, "it is not
so, sir!"

"The man, the first, lies at the entrance of the Path by the Bazaar. No
one will pass near him, and all the city goes mad with fear. What's to
be done? What's to be done? Is there no help for it?" the lad cried in
despair. "I'm going to Pango Dooni. Where is he? In the Palace?"

McDermot shook his head mournfully, for he knew the history of this
plague, the horror of its ravages, the tribes it had destroyed.

The beggar leaned back against the cool wall and laughed. McDermot
turned on him in his fury, and would have kicked him, but Cumner's Son,
struck by some astute intelligence in the man's look, said:

"What do you know of the Red Plague?"

Again the beggar laughed. "Once I saved the city of Nangoon from the
plague, but they forgot me, and when I complained and in my anger went