Armed with this permission, I made straight for the infirmary. The night was now come, cool, dark, and starry. On a mat hard by a clear fire of wood and coco shell, Terutak’ lay beside his wife. Both were smiling; the agony was over, the king’s command had reconciled (I must suppose) their agitating scruples; and I was bidden to sit by them and share the circulating pipe. I was a little moved myself when I placed five gold sovereigns in the wizard’s hand; but there was no sign of emotion in Terutak’ as he returned them, pointed to the palace, and named Tembinok’. It was a changed scene when I had managed to explain. Terutak’, long, dour Scots fisherman as he was, expressed his satisfaction within bounds; but the wife beamed; and there was an old gentleman present—her father, I suppose—who
