Eustace’s jaw looked stubborn.  “If you will give me your word of honour not to drug her, I’ll go,” he said.  “Not otherwise.”

Scott’s hand pressed his shoulder.  “You must leave her in my care now,” he said.  “I am not going to promise anything more.”

“Then I remain,” said Eustace grimly.

A muffled sob came from Biddy.  She was weeping over her tea-kettle.

Scott took his brother by the shoulders as he sat.  “Go like a good fellow,” he urged.  “You will do harm if you stay.”

But Eustace resisted him.  “I am here for a definite purpose,” he said, “and I have no intention of relinquishing it.  She has come through so far without it, I am not going to give in at this stage.”

“And you think your treatment has done her good?” said Scott, with a glance at the drawn, motionless face on the pillow.

“Ultimate good is what I am aiming at,” his brother returned stubbornly.

Scott’s hold became a grip.  He leaned suddenly down and spoke in a whisper.  “If I had known you were up to this, I’m damned if I’d have stayed away!” he said tensely.

“Stumpy!” Eustace opened his eyes in amazement.  Strong language from Scott was so unusual as to be almost outside his experience.

“I mean it!” Scott’s words vibrated.  “You’ve done a hellish thing!  Clear out now, and leave me to help her in my own way!  Before God, I believe she’ll die if you don’t!  Do you want her to die?”

The question fell with a force that was passionate.  There was violence in the grip of his hands.  His light eyes were ablaze.  His whole meagre body quivered as though galvanized by some vital, electric current more potent than it could bear.

And very curiously Sir Eustace was moved by the unknown force.  It struck him unawares.  Stumpy in this mood was a complete stranger to him, a being possessed by gods or devils, he knew not which; but in any case a being that compelled respect.

He got up and stood looking down at him speculatively, too astonished to be angry.

Scott faced him with clenched hands.  He was white as death.  “Go!” he reiterated.  “Go!  There’s no room for you in here.  Get out!”

His lips twisted over the words, and for an instant his teeth showed with a savage gleam.  He was trembling from head to foot.

It was no moment for controversy.  Sir Eustace recognized the fact just as surely as he realized that his brother had completely parted with his self-control.  He had the look of a furious animal prepared to spring at his throat.

Greek had met Greek indeed, but upon ground that was wholly unsuitable for a tug of war.  With a shrug he yielded.

“I don’t know you, Stumpy,” he said briefly.  “You’ve got beyond yourself.  I advise you to pull up before we meet again.  I also advise you to bear in mind that to administer that draught is to undo all that I have spent the whole night to accomplish.”