mad at the door of the Palace, the Rajah drove me from the country. That
was in India, where I learned to speak English; and here am I at the door
of a Palace again!"

"Can you save the city from the plague?" asked Cumner's Son, coming
closer and eagerly questioning. "Is the man dead?" asked the beggar.

"Not when I saw him--he had just been taken."

"Good. The city may be saved if--" he looked at Cumner's Son, "if thou
wilt save him with me. If he be healed there is no danger; it is the
odour of death from the Red Plague which carries death abroad."

"Why do you ask this?" asked McDermot, nodding towards Cumner's Son.

The beggar shrugged his shoulders. "That he may not do with me as did
the Rajah of Nangoon."

"He is not Dakoon," said McDermot.

"Will the young man promise me?"

"Promise what?" asked Cumner's Son.

"A mat to pray on, a house, a servant, and a loaf of bread, a bowl of
goat's milk, and a silver najil every day till I die."

"I am not Dakoon," said the lad, "but I promise for the Dakoon--he will
do this thing to save the city."