'It is the little stranger,' she murmured musically. 'He has been bold enough to soar into the heavens like Ikaros of old, and like Ikaros he has fallen.' She rose suddenly to her feet, and clapped her hands, whereupon several attendants hurried out, manifestly scandalised, to the injured man. Then a physician appeared, to whom the Princess turned with an air of haughty command. 'There is an injury to the little stranger's foot,' she said. 'You will bind it here, and as you value my favour you will give him no pain in the binding. You will then see him borne to his own house and tend him till he is recovered.' The physician lowered his forehead almost to the pavement and at once knelt on one side of Poyning, the Princess kneeling on the other. While his foot was being put into a padded splint she laid her wonderful white hand on his brow. I saw her speak to the physician, then to Poyning, in a tone so low that I could only catch the tail end of what she said. She was looking into his eyes with an expression that seemed most curiously to combine tenderness with an astonishing intensity of will. 'Have no fear for your injury, little one,' she said slowly. 'Our most skilful healers will give you of their utmost skill, and within three days from now you will walk and fly again. These things will assuredly be as I have said. Farewell!' Poyning's lips began to move, but I heard no sound come from them. Bewilderment and frank adoration struggled for the mastery of his face; and if there was any shadow of pain, I didn't see it. His broken foot he seemed to have forgotten. A moment later the Princess had disappeared. Poyning was raised on a litter borne by eight attendants, and we moved off towards our own quarters. Kalliboas, unusually stern and grim, was there almost as soon as we. He had evidently heard of our flight over the city and our descent into the courtyard of the royal palaces--that was the place where we had blundered; yet beyond directing the physicians who were to treat Poyning, he said no word.