him, left the fire and proceeded with a leisurely pace
to cross the room: the door was reached and the handle turned, before
the stupor broke. Sir Hugh, his eyes still fixed on his antagonist, saw
the blanched fury, the start, as if the dazed body were awakening to
some insufferable torture, saw the gathering together, the leap:--"You
fool--you young fool!" he ground between his teeth as, with a clash of
the half-opened door, Augustine pinned him upon it. "Let me go. Do you
hear. Let me go." His voice was the voice of the lion-tamer, hushed
before danger to a quelling depth of quiet.

And like the young lion, drawing long breaths through dilated-nostrils,
Augustine growled back:--"I will not--I will not.--You shall not go to
her. I would rather kill you."

"Kill me?" Sir Hugh smiled. "It would be a fight first, you know."

"Then let it be a fight. You shall not go to her."

"And what if she wants me to go to her.--Will you kill her first,
too--"--The words broke. Augustine's hand was on his throat. Sir Hugh
seized him. They writhed together against the door. "You mad-man!--You
damned mad-man!--Your mother is in love with me.--I'll put you out of
her life--"--Sir Hugh grated forth from the strangling clutch.

Suddenly, as they writhed, panting, glaring their hatred at each other,
the door they leaned on pushed against them. Someone outside was turning
the handle, was forcing it open. And, as if through the shocks and
flashes of a blinding, deafening tempest, Augustine heard his mother's
voice, very still, saying: "Let me come in."

XI

They fell apart and moved back into the room. Amabel entered. She wore a
long white dressing-gown that, to her son's eyes, made her more than
ever look her sainted self; she had dressed hastily, and, on hearing the
crash below, she had wrapped a white scarf about her head and shoulders,
covering her unbound hair. So framed and narrowed her face was that of a
shrouded corpse: the same strange patience stamped it; her eyes, only,
seemed to live, and they, too, were patient and ready for any doom.

Quietly she had closed the door, and standing near it now she looked at
them; her eyes fell for a moment upon Sir Hugh; then they rested on
Augustine and did not leave him.

Sir Hugh spoke first. He laughed a little, adjusting his collar and tie.

"My dear,--you've saved my life. Augustine was going to batter my brains
out on the door, I fancy."

She did not look at him, but at