ad; but we've got to mend you
and make you stronger than ever."

Stratton shook his head, and his pallor was so ghastly, as he now sank
back in his chair and closed his eyes, that Guest was startled, and
sprang up and made for the closet where he knew from of old that the
spirit-stand was kept.

But at the first movement in that direction Stratton leaped to his feet
and intercepted him.

"Stop!" he cried. "I am not ill. Let me be, Guest. You can do me no
good."

"How do you know? I say I can," cried the young man sharply, "and
what's more, I will. Now, come, lad, be reasonable. You're out of
gear, and you're going to submit to me."

"I am my own master, as you said, and I will not be spied over or
interfered with."

"Spied over" sounded bad--not like the words of a sane man.

"Bah! Who wants to spy over you?"

"Interfered with, then. Now go and leave me to myself."

"I shall not," said Guest doggedly.

"You will, sir. These are my rooms; your visit is ill timed; please to
go, and wait till I ask you to visit me again."

"Hah, that settles it, if there were any doubt before. That's not my
old schoolfellow talking. You are ill--mentally ill, lad--so give in."

"Leave my rooms, sir!"

"If I do, it will be to bring others back with me who will insist upon
your yielding to proper treatment."

"Hah, you confess then? You think me mad."

"I did not say mad; I told you what I know now to be a fact. Will you
give in and let me treat you on sound, common-sense principles, or drive
me away to come back with others?"

"You would not dare," said Stratton, in a low, fierce whisper.

"But I do dare anything for your sake--there, I'll speak out!--for
Myra's."

A spasm convulsed Stratton's face, and he ground his teeth as if in
agony.

"I can't help it, lad; I'm being cruel to be kind. Now, then, do you
persist in sending me away!"

Stratton looked round in a furtive, frightened way, shuddered, and was
silent.

"Then I am to go and send others who will treat you. I must tell you
the truth, lad; they may insist upon your leaving here and taking up
your abode somewhere in the country."

Stratton started.

"No, no; not at a madhouse. You are not mad. Only suffering from a
nervous fit. It would be to stay for a time at some doctor's, and I
think it would be the best thing. It would get you away from the dull,
gloomy chambers, where you hardly ever see the sun. They are bad enough
to upset