“Boy!—boy!” he cried suddenly, with a vigour that caused the boy to start off his seat and almost capsize the cup, “did I not forbid you to enter my hut or to touch me?”
At first Cormac looked alarmed, but, seeing that a decided change for the better had taken place in his patient, his brow smoothed and he laughed softly.
“How dared you to disobey me?” exclaimed Bladud again in stern tones.
“I dared because I saw you were unable to prevent me,” returned the lad, with a quiet smile. “Besides, you were too ill to feed yourself, so, of course, I had to do it for you. Do you suppose I am so ungrateful to the man who saved my life as to stand aside and let him die for want of a helping hand? Come, now, be reasonable and let me give you this drink.” He approached as he spoke.
“Keep off!—keep off, I say,” shouted the prince in a voice so resolute that Cormac was fain to obey. “It is bad enough to come into my hut, but you must not touch me!”
“Why not?—I have touched you already.”
“How! when?”
“I have lifted your head many a time to enable you to drink when you could not lift it yourself.”
A groan escaped Bladud.
“Then it is too late! Look at this,” he cried, suddenly uncovering his arm.