But Guy was now past all understanding, and struggled vehemently with Eustace, uttering short cries of rage and terror like a caged animal. His cousin's heart bled for the frenzied agony of the unhappy man, but he saw that Guy was rapidly getting worse, and shouted for assistance. No one answered, however, so having forced Guy to lie down with a great effort, Eustace ran to the electric bell, and in a moment its shrill summons rang through the house. In that moment, however, Guy was out of bed, making for the window, swaying, staggering, raving, with outstretched hands, and Eustace had just time to throw himself on the madman--for he was nothing else at present--and prevent him breaking the glass. Albert entered, and, seeing the state of affairs, shouted for aid, and came forward to help Gartney, whose valet also came up stairs in answer to their cries, and between them the three men managed to get Guy back to bed, where they held him down, raving, crying, shrieking, and entirely insane. Leaving the two servants in charge, Eustace went down stairs and sent for the doctor, who arrived speedily on the scene and prescribed such remedies as were necessary, although, truth to tell, he could do but little. "Just what I expected," he said grimly, when things were going smoother, "and now, Mr. Gartney, as you've carried out your first intention, perhaps you'll carry out the second, and send for his wife." "I suppose I must." "It's a case of life and death," said Storge, and walked out of the room. In two minutes Eustace was on his way to the telegraph office. As he walked rapidly down the street, the temptation came, the terrible temptation that whispered to him not to send for Alizon. "If you do not," whispered the devil on his left, "Guy will die, and you will be able to gain her for your wife." "No," said the good angel on his right. "She can never love you, you could buy nothing, not even happiness, at the price of your cousin's death." So Eustace walked along with these two angels, the bad and the good, whispering in his ears, now inclining to one, now to the other, fighting desperately against the temptations of the devil, and again yielding to the insidious whisper of future joy to be won by a simple act of neglect. In that short walk a whole life-time of agony passed, but no one looking at this stalwart, calm-faced man striding along the Street, could have guessed the hell that raged within. The powers of good and evil fought desperately for the possession of this weak, wavering soul, that was in such sore straits, but in the end the good angel prevailed, and Eustace sat down to write his telegram. He wrote one to Alizon, as strongly worded as he was able, and a second to Otterburn, telling him he must bring Lady Errington over at once. In both he wrote the words, "It is a case of life and death," those words that had been ringing in his ears ever since the doctor had said them.