"I can't sleep. It's no use. I was only pretending." Lucas stifled a sigh of weariness. "Sit down," he said. But Nap stood over him and laid steady hands upon his wrists. His hold was close and vital; it pressed upon the pulses as if to give them new life. "You can sleep if you try," he said. Lucas shook his head with a smile. "I'm not a good subject, Boney. Thanks all the same!" "Try!" Nap said insistently. But the blue eyes remained wide. "No, old chap. It's too high a price to pay--even for sleep." "What do you mean?" There was a fierce note in the query, low as it was; it was almost a challenge. Lucas answered it very quietly. "I mean that I'm afraid of you, Boney." "Skittles!" said Nap. "Yes, it may seem so to you; but, you see, I know what you are trying to do." "What am I trying to do?" demanded Nap. Lucas paused for a moment; he was looking straight up into the harsh face above his own. Then, "I know you," he said. "I know that you'll get the whip hand of me if you can, and you'll clap blinkers on me and drive me according to your own judgment. I never had much faith in your judgment, Boney. And it is not my intention to be driven by you." There was no resentment in the tired voice, only unflagging determination. Nap's hold slowly relaxed. "You don't trust me then?" "It's your methods I don't trust, dear fellow, not your motives. I'd trust them to perdition." "But not my--honour?" Nap's lips twisted over the word. Lucas hesitated. "I believe you would be faithful to your own code," he said at length. "But you don't consider that to trick a man who trusted me would be against that code?" Again Lucas hesitated, and in the silence Nap straightened himself and stood waiting, stern, implacable, hard as granite. "Don't do violence to yourself," he said cynically. On the instant Lucas spoke, in his voice a tremor that was almost passionate. "Boney--Boney, old chap, have I wronged you? God knows I've tried to be just. But are you straight? Are you honest? I'd give my soul to be able to trust you. Only--dear fellow, forgive me--I can't!" Nap's hands clenched. "Why not?" he said. "Because," very slowly and painfully Lucas made reply, "I know that you are trying to blind me. I know that you are sacrificing yourself--and another--in order to deceive me. You are doing it to save me pain, but--before God, Boney--you are torturing me in the doing far more than you realise. I'd sooner die ten times over than endure it. I can bear most things, but not this--not this!" Silence followed the words, a silence that was vital with many emotions. Nap stood upright against the lamplight. He scarcely seemed to breathe, and yet in his very stillness there was almost a hint of violence. He did not attempt to utter a word.