Burke made a slight gesture as of repudiation, but he expressed no denial in words.  “As to that,” he said, “you draw your own conclusions.  I can’t discuss anything with you now.  The point is, you are out of that hell for the present, and I’m going to keep you out.”

“You!” There was a note of bitter humour in the word.  Guy Ranger threw back his head as he uttered it, and by the action the likeness between them was instantly proclaimed.  “That’s good!” he scoffed.  “You—­the man who first showed me the gates of hell—­to take upon yourself to pose as deliverer!  And for whose benefit, if one might ask?  Your own—­or mine?”

His ashen face with the light upon it was still boyish despite the stamp of torment that it bore.  Through all the furnace of his degradation his youth yet clung to him like an impalpable veil that no suffering could rend or destroy.

Burke suddenly abandoned his attitude of gaoler and took him by the shoulder.  “Don’t be a fool!” he said again, but he said it gently.  “I mean what I say.  It’s a way I’ve got.  This isn’t the time for explanations, but I’m out to help you.  Even you will admit that you’re pretty badly in need of help.”

“Oh, damn that!” Recklessly Guy made answer, chafing visibly under the restraining hold; yet not actually flinging it off.  “I know what I’m doing all right.  I shall pull up again presently—­before the final plunge.  I’m not going to attempt it before I’m ready.  I’ve found it doesn’t answer.”

“You’ve got to this time,” Burke said.

His eyes, grey and indomitable, looked straight into Guy’s, and they held him in spite of himself.  Guy quivered and stood still.

“You’ve got to,” he reiterated.  “Don’t tell me you’re enjoying yourself barkeeping at Hoffstein’s!  I’ve known you too long to swallow it.  It just won’t go down.”

“It’s preferable to doing the white nigger on your blasted farm!” flashed back Guy.  “Starvation’s better than that!”

“Thank you,” said Burke.  He did not flinch at the straight hit, but his mouth hardened.  “I see your point of view of course.  Perhaps it’s beside the mark to remind you that you might have been a partner if you’d only played a decent game.  I wanted a partner badly enough.”

An odd spasm crossed Guy’s face.  “Yes.  You didn’t let me into that secret, did you, till I’d been weighed in the balances and found wanting?  You were too damned cautious to commit yourself.  And you’ve congratulated yourself on your marvellous discretion ever since, I’ll lay a wager.  You hide-bound, self-righteous prigs always do.  Nothing would ever make you see that it’s just your beastly discretion that does the mischief,—­your infernal, complacent virtue that breeds the vice you so deplore!” He broke into a harsh laugh that ended in a sharp catch of the breath that bent him suddenly double.

Burke’s hand went swiftly from his shoulder to his elbow.  He led him to a chair.  “Sit down!” he said.  “You’ve got beyond yourself.  I’m going to get you a drink, and then you’ll go to bed.”