CHAPTER XII
THE CROWN OP KAMT
Hugh needed much of my skill when we got back to the palace that night and were rid of our attendants, safe in our own privacy. The strain must have been terrible for him to bear. His constitution was a veritable bundle of nerves; these had been strained almost to breaking, both in his fight with Ur-tasen and during the awful moment when, for the sake of a principle, he stained his hand with the blood of a fellow-creature.
As soon as we were alone I went up to him and grasped that hand with all the warmth and affection which my admiration for him commanded, and I felt strangely moved when, in response, I saw in his great dark eyes a soft look of tenderness and of gratitude. He knew I had understood him, and I think he was satisfied. Gently, as a sick child, he allowed me to attend to him; fortunately, through the many vicissitudes which ultimately brought us to this wondrous land, I had never discarded my small, compact, portable medicine-chest, and I soon found a remedy for the poor, tired-out aching nerves.
"There now, that's better, isn't it, Girlie?" I said when he was at last lying, quietly and comfortably, on the couch, and there was less unnatural brilliancy in his eyes.
"You are awfully good to me, Mark, old chap," he said. "I am ashamed to have broken down so completely. You will think that I deserve more than ever my old schoolboy nickname."
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