"Stop!" he cried. "I am not ill. Let me be, Guest. You can do me no good." "How do you know? I say I can," cried the young man sharply, "and what's more, I will. Now, come, lad, be reasonable. You're out of gear, and you're going to submit to me." "I am my own master, as you said, and I will not be spied over or interfered with." "Spied over" sounded bad--not like the words of a sane man. "Bah! Who wants to spy over you?" "Interfered with, then. Now go and leave me to myself." "I shall not," said Guest doggedly. "You will, sir. These are my rooms; your visit is ill timed; please to go, and wait till I ask you to visit me again." "Hah, that settles it, if there were any doubt before. That's not my old schoolfellow talking. You are ill--mentally ill, lad--so give in." "Leave my rooms, sir!" "If I do, it will be to bring others back with me who will insist upon your yielding to proper treatment." "Hah, you confess then? You think me mad." "I did not say mad; I told you what I know now to be a fact. Will you give in and let me treat you on sound, common-sense principles, or drive me away to come back with others?" "You would not dare," said Stratton, in a low, fierce whisper. "But I do dare anything for your sake--there, I'll speak out!--for Myra's." A spasm convulsed Stratton's face, and he ground his teeth as if in agony. "I can't help it, lad; I'm being cruel to be kind. Now, then, do you persist in sending me away!" Stratton looked round in a furtive, frightened way, shuddered, and was silent. "Then I am to go and send others who will treat you. I must tell you the truth, lad; they may insist upon your leaving here and taking up your abode somewhere in the country." Stratton started. "No, no; not at a madhouse. You are not mad. Only suffering from a nervous fit. It would be to stay for a time at some doctor's, and I think it would be the best thing. It would get you away from the dull, gloomy chambers, where you hardly ever see the sun. They are bad enough to upset anyone. Once more, which is it to be?" Guest had been startled enough before by his friend's acts and ways; his conduct now indorsed all prior thoughts of his state. For, as he rose and moved toward the door as if to go, Stratton sprang to him and caught his arm. "I give in," he said huskily. "You are right. A little out of order. Nerves, I suppose. But no doctor. There is no need. I'll--I'll do everything you wish." "Then you'll come abroad with me?" "No. No, I cannot. I will not." "Very well, then, I'm not going to see you grow worse before my eyes. I shall do as I said." "No, no, for Heaven's sake, don't be so mad as to do that. Look here, Guest. I am ill, and weak, and low. I confess it, but I shall be better here. It is as you say, overstrain. If you force me to go somewhere else, I shall be ten times worse. I'll do anything you advise, yield to you in every way, but I must stay here. The institution, you know."