“There is no better work,” said Hugh, proudly. “He will show it you, gentle sir, and you will see.”
“Ay,” said Gervase, hesitatingly, “and thou wilt follow his craft?”
“I would carve in stone,” muttered Hugh, turning away that his questioner might not see the tears which sprang into his eyes. He was tired, and his heart seemed strangely heavy.
“Sayest thou so!” eagerly. “Thou art right, there is nought like it. We must see what can be done for thee, perchance—” he checked himself.
“I must talk with Prothasy,” he added, under his breath.
He was very good to the boy, leaving him to make a good meal while he went out to meet the doctor, a gaunt, melancholy man, dressed in bluish grey lined with thin silk, who spoke with bent head and joined finger-tips.
“By virtue of the drugs I administered,” he began, “my patient hath revived a little, but Is in evil case.”
“How long will he live, sir leech?” demanded Elyas bluntly.
“Scarce more than a few days. I am going home to prepare a cordial, and I shall cast his horoscope to-night, when I doubt not to find evil influences in the ascendent.”
“You may take that for granted without seeking to find out whether it is so,” said the other, with a short laugh. “However, let him want no care. Will you be back before curfew?”