"Give it up, Boney!" he said at last. "I'll go with you to the ends of the earth sooner than let you do this thing, and you'll find me a very considerable encumbrance. Do you honestly believe yourself capable of shunting me at will?"
"I honestly believe you'll kill yourself if you don't rest," Nap said.
He looked down suddenly into the tired eyes. The fierce glare had gone utterly out of his own. His very pose had altered.
"Then I shall die in a good cause," Lucas murmured, with the ghost of a smile. "You needn't say any more, Boney. I guess I shall rest now."
"Because you think you've beaten me," Nap said curtly.
"Guess it's your victory, dear fellow, not mine," Lucas answered very gently.
A gleam that was not a smile crossed the harsh face, softening but not gladdening. "It's a mighty hollow one anyway. And I'm not going for nothing—not even to please you."
"Anything—to the half of my kingdom," Lucas said.
Nap sat down on the edge of the bed. The madness had passed, or he had thrust it back out of sight in the darkest recesses of his soul. He laid a hand upon his brother's arm and felt it speculatively.
"No sinew, no flesh, and scarcely any blood!" he said. "And yet"—his mouth twisted a little—"my master! Luke, you're a genius!"