"I do not wish," he said, "to be worried with any more doctors. It is only a farce, and I have little time to spare."

"Nonsense!" I answered. "Rust declares that there is very little the matter with you. He has sent for a friend to come and have a look at you."

A little gesture of impatience escaped him.

"My dear Courage," he said, "I am obliged to you for all this care; but I am quite sure that, in your inner consciousness, you realize as I do that it is sheer waste of time."

He drew his dressing-gown a little closer around him. The hollows under his eyes seemed to have grown deeper since the morning.

"I am fairly run to earth," he continued. "Even these few hours of life I owe to my enemies. They hope to profit by them, of course. If you are the man I think you are, they will be mistaken. But don't waste my time with doctors."

He began to write again. I made some perfunctory remark which he entirely ignored. Just then I was called away. He watched my departure with obvious relief.

I was told that a stranger was waiting to see me in the library. My first thought was of the doctor. When I arrived there, I found a young man whose face was familiar, but whom I could not at once place. Then, like a flash, I remembered. It was the younger of the two men who had forced their way into my room at the Hotel Universal.

Now I was in no very good humor for dealing with these gentry. I had a distinct inclination to take him by the collar of the coat and throw him out. I fancy that he divined from my face how I was feeling, for he began hastily to explain his presence.

"I am very sorry to be an intruder, Mr. Courage," he said in his slow, precise English. "I had no wish to come at all. We were willing to leave you undisturbed. But we do not understand why you have sent for a doctor from London--and especially Professor Kauppmann!"

I looked at him deliberately. He was wearing English clothes--a dark tweed suit, ill-cut, and apparently ready-made; but the foreigner was written large all over him, from the tie of his bow to his narrow patent boots. His eyes were fixed anxiously upon me--large black eyes with long, feminine eyelashes. I think that if he had not been under the shelter of my own roof, I must have laid violent hands upon him.

"Why the devil should you understand?" I exclaimed. "Mr. Guest is my visitor, and if I choose to send for a doctor to see him, it is my business and n.o.body else's. If you have come here with any idea of bullying me, I am afraid you have wasted your time."

"You have evidently," he answered, "not troubled yourself to understand the situation! Mr. Guest is our prisoner!"

"Your what?" I exclaimed.

"Our prisoner," the young man answered. "Let me ask you this! Has Mr.

Guest himself encouraged you in your attempt to interfere between him and his inevitable fate? No! I am sure that he has not! He accepts what he knows must happen! A few days more or less of life--what do they matter?"

"You make me feel inclined," I said grimly, "to test your theory."

The young man stepped back. My fingers were itching to take him by the throat, and I think that he read the desire in my face.

"Will you allow me to see Mr. Guest?" he asked.

"No! I'm d----d if I will," I answered. "I shall give you," I added, with my hand upon the bell, "exactly two minutes to leave this house."

The young man smiled superciliously, but he picked up his hat.

"I suppose, Mr. Courage, I must not blame you," he remarked, "You have all the characteristics of your country-people. You meet a delicate situation with the tactics of a bull!"

I laid my hand gently, but firmly upon his shoulder. We were half-way down the hall now, and the front door was wide open. I longed to throw him out, but I restrained myself. He was perfectly conscious, I am sure, of my inclination, but he showed no signs of uneasiness.

"I admit," I said calmly, "that you seem, all of you, to be engaged in proceedings of an extraordinary nature, which I do not in the least understand. But under my own roof, at any rate, I am master. I will not tolerate any interference with my guests; and as for Mr. Stanley from Liverpool and you, whatever you may call yourself, I will not have you near the place! You see my lodge gates," I added, pointing down the avenue, "I shall stand here until you have pa.s.sed through them. If you come again, you will meet with a different reception!"

The young man laughed unpleasantly.

"Never fear, Mr. Courage," he answered. "Always we try first the simple means. If they should fail, we have many surer ways of gaining our ends.

Au revoir!"

He left me and walked briskly off down the avenue. I fetched a pair of field-gla.s.ses, and watched him until he reached the lodge gates. A few moments later I saw him climb into a motor car, and vanish in a cloud of dust....

Later in the afternoon a victoria drew up before my front door just as I was starting for the village. Lady Dennisford leaned forward as I approached. She was closely veiled, but her voice shook with anxiety.

"How is he?" she asked.

"It is hard to say," I answered. "He has been writing for the last three hours. I was just going down to see if Rust has heard from the London man he wired for."

"Do you know why," she whispered, "he is so sure that he is going to die?"

I hesitated for a moment.

"He seems to imagine," I said, "that he has some enemies."

She sighed.

"I am afraid," she said, "that it is no imagination."

I looked at her in surprise.

"He has told me, perhaps," she said, a little hastily, "more than he has told you, and perhaps I am in a better position to understand. Mr.

Courage, I wonder whether it would be possible for me to have an interview with any one of these men who are watching him."

"If you had been here a few hours ago," I said, "it would have been very possible indeed. One of them was here."

"What did he want?" she asked sharply.

"To see Mr. Guest, for one thing!"

"Did you allow it?"

"No! Guest is writing secrets with a loaded revolver by his side. He certainly does not want to see any of that crew."

"Oh! he is mad," she murmured. "Why should he not buy his life? What else is there that counts?"

"There are two to a bargain," I answered. "I do not think that he has value to give."

"Oh! he has," she answered, "if only he would be reasonable."

We were silent for a moment. In the distance, coming up the avenue, was the figure of a man. I watched him with curiosity. Finally I pointed him out to Lady Dennisford.

"Do you see this man coming up to the house?" I said--"a sleek, middle-aged man smoking a cigar?"

"I see him," she answered.

"What do you think he looks like?" I asked.

"A prosperous tradesman," she answered. "A friend of your bailiff's, perhaps."