"'The boy--not Amra!' I cried, bending in my turn.
"Sure enough, on Taylor's arm, with Taylor's coat over his wasted body, lay the young disciple. His great, luminous eyes looked out of a face whence even death could not drive the beauty, and his breath came in laboured gasps.
"'Brandy! I have some here,' I suggested in hot haste, moved to the idiotic suggestion by that horror of standing helpless which besets us all in presence of the Destroyer.
"Taylor looked at the boy with a grave smile and shook his head. 'To begin with, he wouldn't touch it; besides, he is past all that sort of thing. No one could help him now.' He paused, shifting the weight a little on his arm.
"'The Presence will grow tired holding me,' gasped the young voice feebly. 'If the sahib will put a stone under my head and cover me with some snow, I will be able to crawl on by and by when I am rested. For it is close--quite close.'
"'Very close,' muttered the doctor under his breath. Suddenly he looked up at me, saying in a half-apologetic way, 'I was wondering if you and I couldn't get him up there--to Amar-nâth I mean. Life has been hard on him; he deserves an easy death.'
"'Of course we can,' I cried in a rush of content at the suggestion, as I hobbled round to get to the other side, and so help the lad to his legs.
"'Hollo,' asked Taylor, with a quick professional glance, 'what have you done to your ankle? Sit down and let me overhaul it.'
"In vain I made light of it, in vain I appealed to him. He peremptorily forbade my stirring for another hour, asserting that I had injured a small artery, and without caution might find difficulty in reaching the tents, as it would be impossible for him to help me much on the sort of ground over which we had to travel.
"'But the boy, Taylor!--the boy!' I pleaded. 'It would be awful to leave him here.'