"It concerns you," answered Cæsar, "inasmuch as it concerns myself. Your life is in my hands. I can either kill you, or place an iron collar around your neck and yoke you to a gang of slaves. If you do not do as I wish, I will have you shot. If you obey me, you may continue to live--as a slave."
"What is it you want?" asked Max.
"I want you to do what you can to save de Costa. He is of some use to me. Indeed, I could not do very well without him."
"I will do what I can," said Max.
Outside, the Arab was on guard. Cæsar lead the way to de Costa's hut; and there, Max found the half-caste stretched upon his bed, with features drawn and haggard, and his complexion of a ghastly purple hue. His body was all twisted in his agony. He was too far gone to speak.
"Now," said Cæsar, "I do not feel disposed to untie your hands; but you will kindly look at the bottles of medicine on that shelf, and see if you can find anything that might be of use."
Max searched the shelf where the half-caste kept his stock of drugs, and had no difficulty in finding the very thing he wanted, namely, opium. He found also bismuth and nitrate of silver. He instructed Cæsar how to mix these drugs in the ordained proportions; and the Portuguese placed a glass containing the medicine at the sick man's bedside. It is noteworthy that he took care not to touch the patient, for the disease is one of the most contagious in the world.
"Will he live, do you think?" asked Cæsar.
"It is impossible to say," said Max.
"You can do nothing else?"