"Yes, what is it?" cried Phra eagerly.
"I want you to go up to our place and wait till father comes back. Then tell him I'm better. I shouldn't like him to hear I had been bitten by a naga without knowing the whole truth."
"Yes, I'll go," cried the boy, pressing his friend's hand. "But tell me first, doctor: he is ever so much better?"
"Quite out of all danger now," was the reply, and Phra started off, but only to find that he was too late, for before he had gone a hundred yards he met Mr. Kenyon and Mike, running.
"Ah!" cried the merchant wildly, catching Phra by the arm, "tell me quickly—the truth—the truth."
"Better; getting well fast," said Phra quickly.
Mr. Kenyon stopped short and laid his hand to his breast, and stood panting for a few minutes before speaking again.
"Mike told you as soon as you came ashore, then?"
"No, he came down the river in a boat to fetch me, as soon as he heard the news. But come, quick, I must see for myself!"
As Mr. Kenyon entered the room the doctor and his wife just said a word, and then went softly out, Phra grasping the reason and following them into the garden.