“Oh yes, I would. And I’ll kill you if you venture to doubt my word.”
As he said this the hunter sprang to his feet, and, drawing his knife, seemed about to leap upon his host, who, however, sat perfectly still.
“I should be sorry that you should die,” said Bladud in a calm voice, while he kept his eyes steadily fixed on those of the maniac. “You have heard, have you not, of that terrible disease of the East, called leprosy?”
“Yes—the ship-captains have often spoken of it,” said the madman, whose mind, like that of a child, could be easily turned into new channels.
“Look! I have got that disease. The Power which you profess to despise has sent it to me. If you so much as touch me, your doom is fixed.”
He uncovered his shoulder as he spoke and displayed the white spot.
Bladud felt quite uncertain how this would be received by the madman, but he was scarcely prepared for what followed. No sooner did the hunter see the spot and realise what it meant, than without a word he turned, caught up his bundle, uttered a yell of terror, and fled from the spot, closely followed by his dogs, which howled as if in sympathy.