"Chiun," he whispered.
"Can you hear?"
The Dutchman nodded.
"You have been unconscious for several days. You must try to eat." Chiun brought over a bowl of rice mixed with warm tea and held it out to him.
"Why do you offer me food?" the Dutchman asked, straining to raise his head.
Chiun propped a pillow of hops and dried leaves behind his patient. "Because you are hungry."
The young man brought the bowl to his lips, his hands shaking. Chiun steadied them with his own.
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"You are a fool. Don't you know who I am?"
"You have not changed so much, Jeremiah. I can guess why you have come." Chiun set down the bowl beside him.
"And you think, I suppose, that I will spare your life for a bowl of rice?"
"No," Chiun said softly.
The Dutchman let his head fall back on the pillow. "So you plan to kill me while I am too weak to use my powers. You have some sense, at least."
"I cannot."
The Dutchman's eyes flashed. "What will you do with me?"
"I will care for you until you are well." He brought over a basin of cold water and changed the towels on the Dutchman's head. There was a long silence.
"Why?" he asked, searching the old man's face.
Chiun shook his head. "I fear you would not understand."
H'si T'ang walked inside the cave, a basket of herbs in his hands.
"Who is that?" the Dutchman asked.
Chiun looked to his old teacher, afraid for him. "No one you need to know," he said.
But the blind man shuffled forward. "I am H'si T'ang," he said.
"H'si T'ang, the healer?"
"So they once called me."
"You are blind."
The old Master nodded. "In one way."
"It is said you can see the future. Why did you not set a trap for rne?"
H'si T'ang looked at him sadly. "My son, there is none living who is more trapped than you."
"Go away!" the Dutchman shouted hoarsely, his thin face ravaged. "I have no need of your useless ministrations.
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Or the feeble philosophies of a blind old relic. I have come to kill you, and when I am able, I will kill you. I promise that!" He shivered, his teeth chattering.
H'si T'ang turned his back and walked away. Silently Chiun covered the Dutchman with a thin blanket.
"Leave me, 1 said!" His eyes were squeezed shut in a grimace. A tear trickled over the skin of his temple into his hair.
Chiun left his side, and the Dutchman slept.
He awoke after nightfall. His eyes adjusted automatically to the darkness of the cave. He tested his fingers. They worked. The rice had given him enough strength to move. He pushed aside the damp rags on his forehead. There was no fever now.
The blind one was gone. Chiun sat a few feet away in lotus position, his eyes closed. Watching him, the Dutchman carefully removed the blanket that covered him and rose. The Oriental didn't awaken.
He stole toward the sleeping figure with movements so controlled that even the air around him was not disturbed. Then, bending low, he prepared his attack.
Chiun's eyes opened wide. There was not a trace of grogginess or confusion in them. Expectant, alert, knowing, they seemed to take in the Dutchman's very thoughts at a glance.
The Dutchman stopped, his jaw dropping.
"Why do you hesitate?" Chiun said sharply.
The Dutchman felt his breathing come faster. "I-1-"
"Can you kill only sleeping victims? Have you been reduced to that?"
The Dutchman backed away, trembling. "It would have been easier," he said. "Master, I do not wish to kill you." !t was a cry of desperation. "But I must. It was my vow to Nuihc. While you live, 1 will never find rest. It was his curse upon me."
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"Nuihc lied to you. You will not find the peace you seek by killing me."
"You are wrong," he said passionately. "He will free me then. I will be permitted to die."
Chiun looked at the miserable, thin man with his hunched shoulders. He remembered that he had once been a beautiful youth with a quick, fine mind and hands as fast as the wind.
"Even then, you wanted to die," Chiun said absently. "Did you never try to end your life?"