"Open the window and give me some brandy," Engleton said.
Kate felt him suddenly grow heavy upon her arm.
"Bring a chair quick," she ordered. "He is going to faint."
She bent over him, alarmed at the sudden change in his face. Her attention for one moment was relaxed. Then she felt her wrist seized in a grip of iron. The revolver, which she was still holding, fell to the ground, and Cecil calmly picked it up and thrust it into his pocket.
"You have played the game very well, Kate," he said. "Now I think it is our turn."
She looked at him indignantly, but without any trace of fear.
"You brute!" she exclaimed. "Can't you see that he has fainted? Do you want him to die here?"
"Not in the least," Cecil answered. "Here, Forrest, you take care of this," he added, passing the revolver over to him. "I'll look after Engleton."
He led him to an easy-chair close to the window. He opened it a few inches, and a current of strong fresh air came sweeping in. Then he poured some brandy into a glass and gave it to Kate.
"Let him sip this," he said. "Keep his head back. That's right. We will call a truce for a few moments. I am going to talk with my friend."