A man came running in, alarmed by his cry; and of him Irar demanded, in a voice choked and hoarse with emotion:
"Your master, quick!—where is he?"
"I have not seen him for a week."
"A week? And I?"
"You have been asleep. My master said you would not wake before a week had passed, and that he would return ere your slumber was broken."
It was true, then, this horror that he had thought a dream; and he buried his face in his hands that the servant might not see his emotion. In a little time he grew calm, and raising his head, he said:
"Has your master returned?"
"No."
He put up his hand, and felt his throat—the bandage was gone. To his questioning look, the man said:
"The master ordered it. It was taken off the third day after he went away, and you can eat if you desire to."