Nap took his wrist.

The cigarette glowed, and Nap looked up. "It's a pity you're too big to
thrash, Bertie," he said coolly, and with a sudden movement doubled the
flaming paper back upon the fingers that held it.

Bertie's yell was more of rage than pain. He struck furiously at his
tormentor with his free hand, but Nap, by some trick of marvellous
agility, evaded the blow. He leapt over the back of the settee with a
laugh of devilish derision.

And, "Bertie, go!" said Lucas peremptorily.

Without a word Bertie checked himself as it were in mid career, stood a
second as one gathering his strength, then turned in utter silence and
marched away.

CHAPTER XIII

THE JESTER'S INFERNO

Between the two men who were left not a word passed for many minutes. Nap
prowled to and fro with his head back and his own peculiarly insolent
smile curving the corners of his mouth. There was a ruddy glare in his
eyes, but they held no anger.

Lucas, still leaning on his crutch, stood with his back turned, his face
to the fire. There was no anger about him either. He looked spent.

Abruptly Nap ceased his pacing and came up to him. "Come!" he said. "You
have had enough of this. I will help you to your room."

Slowly Lucas lifted his heavy eyes. "Send Hudson to me," he said.

Nap looked at him sharply. Then, "Lean on me," he said. "I'll help you."

"No. Send Hudson." The words ended upon a stifled groan.

Nap turned swiftly and dragged forward the settee. "Lie down here for a
minute, while I fetch him. Don't faint, man! You will be easier
directly. You have been on your feet too long. There! Is that better?"

Lucas drew a long, shuddering breath and slowly suffered his limbs to
relax. His face was ghastly though he forced himself to smile.

"Yes, I am better. Don't call Hudson for a minute. Nap!"

Nap bent.

"Put your hand under my shoulders. Ah! That's a help. I always like your
touch. Say, Boney," the words came gaspingly, the sunken eyes were heavy
with pain, "you'll think me a mean brute. I am, dear fellow, I am; a
coward, too, from the same point of view. But--ill or well, I've got to
say it. You've been running amok to-day, and it's been altogether too
lively to be just pleasant. You've got to pull up. I say it."

Nap's smile had utterly departed. It was some other impulse that twitched
his lips as he made reply.

"Whatever you say is law."

"Thanks! I'm duly grateful. Do you mind wiping my forehead? I'm