no one.

Still why was the fellow burning a light at that hour? An unacknowledged
uneasiness took possession of him and drove him forward. People seemed
to do all manner of extravagant things in this fantastic country that
they would never have dreamed of doing in homely old England. There must
be something electric in the atmosphere that penetrated the veins. Even
he had been aware of it now and then, a strange and potent influence
that drove a man to passionate deeds.

He reached the window without sound just as Stella had reached it on
that night of rain long ago. With no consciousness of spying, driven by
an urgent impulse he could not stop to question, he looked in.

The window was ajar, as if it had been pushed to negligently by someone
entering, and in a flash Bernard had it wide. He went in as though he
had been propelled.

A man--Everard--was standing half-dressed in the middle of the room. He
was facing the window, and the light shone with ghastly distinctness
upon his face. But he did not look up. He was gazing fixedly into a
glass of water he held in his hand, apparently watching some minute
substance melting there.

It was not the thing he held, but the look upon his face, that sent
Bernard forward with a spring. "Man!" he burst forth. "What are you
doing?"

Everard gave utterance to a fierce oath that was more like the cry of a
savage animal than the articulate speech of a man. He stepped back
sharply, and put the glass to his lips. But no drop that it contained
did he swallow, for in the same instant Bernard flung it violently
aside. The glass spun across the room, and they grappled together for
the mastery. For a few seconds the battle was hot; then very suddenly
the elder man threw up his hands.

"All right," he said, between short gasps for breath. "You can hammer
me--if you want someone to hammer. Perhaps--it'll do you good."

He was free on the instant. Everard flung round and turned his back. He
did not speak, but crossed the room and picked up the glass which lay
unbroken on the floor.

Bernard followed him, still gasping for breath, "Give that to me!" he
said.

His soft voice was oddly stern. Everard looked at him. His hand, shaking
a little, was extended. After a very definite pause, he placed the glass
within it. There was a little white sediment left with a drain of water
at the bottom. With his blue eyes full upon his brother's face, Bernard
lifted it to his own lips.

But the