"Your own son, your own boy; don't you see him?" pursued Hunston, wildly.
"Look. No—It is my own fancy, my fear-stricken mind, which conjures up these horrible visions. Ugh!"
And he cowered down at Harkaway's feet with averted glance, endeavouring to shut out the fearsome sight.
"Take him away," said Harkaway to the men.
They advanced and laid hands upon him, but Hunston fought madly with them and clung to Harkaway's knees in desperation.
It was his last chance, he felt positive.
"Think, Harkaway, think," he cried again and again. "Remember our boyhood's days; remember our youth, passed at school together. We were college chums, and—"
"No; not quite," interrupted Dick Harvey in disgust. "We were at Oxford together, but never chums."
"You were never the sort of man that one would care to chum with," added Harkaway.
"Never!"