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On the table are twenty guineas, take them, and just so soon as Barrymaine is fit to travel, get him away, but above all, don't " "Who is it?" cried Barrymaine suddenly, starting up and peering wildly over his shoulder, "w-who is it? Oh, I t-tell you there's s-somebody behind me who is it?" "Nobody, Barry not a soul, my poor boy, compose yourself!" But, even as Mr.
Barrymaine was silent, but into his eyes had crept a look such a look as Barnabas had never seen such a look as Barnabas could never afterwards forget; then Barrymaine stooped to reach for the bottle. "Well," said he, without looking up again, "s-suppose you are my friend, what then?"
That's the accursed part of it pay, pay! debt on debt, and n-nothing to pay with. All swallowed up by that merciless bloodsucker that " "Now, Barry!" Mr. Smivvle expostulated, "my dear boy " "He's a cursed v-vampire, I tell you!" retorted Barrymaine, his pale cheeks suddenly flushed, and his dark eyes flashing in swift passion, "he's a snake." "Now, my dear fellow, calm yourself." "Calm myself.
Thus, in a while, when Barrymaine opened his eyes it was to see Cleone kneeling beside him with bent head, and with both hands clasped down upon her bosom, fierce hands that clenched a crumpled paper between them. At first he thought she was weeping, but, when she turned towards him, he saw that her eyes were tearless and very bright, and that on either cheek burned a vivid patch of color.
Barnabas retorted; "in the meantime I shall most certainly give myself the pleasure of kicking you downstairs unless you choose to walk at once." As he spoke, Barnabas took a stride towards Mr. Chichester's rigid figure, but, in that moment, Barrymaine snatched up the bottle and sprang between them. "Ah! would you?" he cried, "who are you to order my f-friends about and in m-my own place too!
And, when he was gone, Barnabas hurried back into the room and, taking pen and paper, wrote this: You are to be arrested to-night, so I send you my friend, John Peterby. Trust yourself to his guidance. And having folded and sealed this letter, he beckoned to Peterby. "John," said he, speaking in his ear, "take this letter to Mr. Barrymaine, give it into his hand, see that he leaves at once.
"He means I threatened to s-shoot him, Clo so I did, but it was for your sake, to sh-shield you from persecution as a brother should." "Cleone," said Barnabas, ignoring Barrymaine altogether, "if there is any one in this world who should know me, and what manner of man I am, surely it is you " "Yes, she knows you b-better than you think, she knows you for a publican's son, first of all "
"Let us say your friend." "I tell you, sir," said Barrymaine, starting up unsteadily, "I seek no man's aid s-scorn it! I'm not one to weep out my misfortunes to strangers. Damme, I'm man enough to manage my own affairs, what's left of 'em. I want nobody's accursed pity either pah!" and he made a gesture of repudiation so fierce that he staggered and recovered himself only by clutching at Mr.
Chichester's pale face, while Barnabas leaned, twisted in his chair, and Mr. Smivvle busied himself with the oblong box. With shaking hands he took out the duelling-pistols, one by one, and laid them on the table. "We'll g-give him first choice, eh, Dig?" said Barrymaine. "Ah he's chosen, I s-see. Now we'll t-take opposite corners of the room and f-fire when you give the word, eh, Dig?"
"Ah, Beverley, my boy!" he cried heartily, "pray forgive this horribly unseasonable visit, but under the circumstances I felt it my duty to ah to drop in on you, my dear fellow." "What circumstances?" demanded Barnabas, a little stiffly, perhaps. "Circumstances affecting our friend Barrymaine, sir." "Ah?" said Barnabas, his tone changing, "what of him? though you forget, Mr.
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