As it chanced, they had not very far to go, the Hasca residence being situated less than a mile from the palace, in an even more aristocratic looking avenue than the one in which the accident had occurred. They found Mishail, the patient, lodged in a sumptuous chamber, attended by his sister Lissa, a remarkably pretty girl, some sixteen years of age.
The patient appeared to be suffering great pain, was in a high state of fever, and in a condition bordering on delirium, which indeed was not surprising, since the unhappy youth was in a room upon the outer wall of which the sun beat all day, while the shutters of the two windows were closed and heavy curtains drawn across them. The room, in fact, was as stifling as an oven, and Earle’s first act was to draw apart the heavy curtains and throw wide the shutters, thus letting in both air and light. Then he looked at the injured arm, which he expected to find properly dressed, naturally supposing that upon the arrival of the lad at his home, the family physician would be summoned and the fracture carefully attended to. To his great surprise, however, he found the limb in exactly the same state as when he had left it, with the makeshift splints still there, but shifted out of position by the restless movements of the patient, and he afterwards learned that this was because they had not dared to tamper or in any way interfere with the work of the illustrious representative of Kuhlacan!
Upon the arm being unstrapped, Earle found, as he fully expected, that the bone had become displaced and needed re-setting; and this he at once proceeded to do, having first secured all that he needed in the way of effective splints and bandages, and put his patient under chloroform. He took care that this time the job was properly done, and the patient’s arm so securely strapped to his body that it could not be moved; and as soon as Mishail had recovered from his state of anaesthesia, Earle administered a draught designed to reduce the fever, and, having made his patient as comfortable as possible, left him, promising to call again some time during the evening. And, not to dwell at undue length upon the incident, it may here be said that, under Earle’s skilful treatment the patient made a rapid and perfectly satisfactory recovery, to the admiration, delight, and gratitude of the entire family.
Upon leaving Hasca’s house, the two friends indulged in a walk through a few of the streets that they had not yet visited; consequently it was after noon when at length they got back to the palace. Here they found Bahrim, the major-domo, in their suite anxiously awaiting their return. The poor man was evidently in a state of great excitement concerning some matter which he found himself wholly unable to explain; but by dint of signs he at length contrived to make them both understand that he desired them to bathe, and afterwards don certain festive garments, to which he respectfully directed their attention. Understanding at last what the old fellow required of them, and also that he was in a most desperate hurry, the two friends disappeared, to re-appear, about a quarter of an hour later, bathed, perfumed—by their assiduous servants, who insisted upon the process—and clad in garments of so sumptuous a character that there could be no doubt the wearers were booked for some exceedingly important ceremony.
They were immediately taken in charge by the obsequious Bahrim, who, by expressive signs, invited them to follow him. Led by the major-domo, the two friends rapidly traversed several corridors until they reached another wing of the palace, finally halting before a closed door, outside which two soldiers, clad in golden armour and armed with sword and spear, stood on guard. Signing to the white men to remain where they were, Bahrim opened the door, disclosing a drawn curtain beyond it, and closed the door behind him, only to re-appear, some two minutes later, beckoning his charges to follow him.
Not until having received the salute of the guards as they passed through the re-opened doorway, and the door was closed behind them, was the shrouding curtain withdrawn, and then Earle and Dick found themselves in a small but most sumptuously furnished apartment, at the far extremity of which were seated two people, a man and a girl.
The man was apparently between fifty and sixty years of age—and a very fine specimen of Uluan manhood, as the visitors presently discovered when he rose to his feet. Like most Uluans, he was dark complexioned, his hair, beard and moustache, all of which he wore of patriarchal length, having been originally black, though now thickly streaked with grey. His features were well formed, clean cut, and aristocratic looking, as they might well be, seeing that the man was none other than Juda, the King of Ulua, and direct descendant of a long line of kings whose origin was lost in the mists of antiquity. He wore a long sleeved garment, which reached from his throat to his feet, the colour of it being red, with a wide border containing an intricate pattern wrought in black, white and gold braid. On his head he had a kind of turban of red, black and gold, surrounded by a coronet that appeared to be made of iron, set with many beautiful stones, while its front was adorned with an aigrette of crimson feathers, fastened by a brooch which also appeared to be made of iron. A broad belt, embroidered in red, black and gold, encircled his waist, attached to which was a great cross-hilted sword which looked as though it might have originally belonged to a crusader. His feet were shod with sandals of crimson leather, and his fingers decorated with several rings, apparently of wrought iron, each of which was set with a very fine stone, either emerald, sapphire, ruby, or diamond.
Taken altogether, Juda was a remarkably imposing specimen of manhood, and a worthy progenitor of his handsome granddaughter, Myrra. She, however, unlike her grandfather, was fair as a summer’s dawn, of medium height, with violet eyes, and an extraordinary wealth of ruddy-golden hair which, confined to her head by a fillet of what looked like red velvet set with precious stones, rolled thence to far below her waist in great waves. Her outer garment, sleeveless, might have been copied from those depicted on the Greek vases in the British Museum and, like her grandfather’s, was red in colour, adorned with braiding in the same colours as his. Her sandals were of white leather, and she wore armlets and bracelets of beautifully worked iron encrusted with precious stones.
As the two white men, intuitively guessing the identity of those in whose presence they found themselves, walked slowly up the room, Juda and Myrra rose to their feet and stood gazing with the utmost interest at their visitors. Juda’s eyes were intently fixed upon the amulet which Earle now habitually wore fully exposed to view; but after the first glance, Myrra seemed far more interested in Dick, with his stalwart frame and good-looking features.
Arrived within some half-a-dozen paces of the two august figures, Earle and Dick came to a halt and bowed, while Bahrim, who had been bowing almost to the earth during his progress up the hall, now knelt down, touched the marble pavement three times with his forehead, and then, rising to his feet, introduced the visitors in a long speech, which was of course utterly unintelligible to the white men, though they gathered from certain of Bahrim’s movements and gestures that the incident of the runaway horses, of Dick stopping them, and of Earle’s attentions to Mishail, the injured charioteer, formed part of the speech.