Stratton drew his breath hard.
“There, I’ve done. It’s jumping, as he said, on a fallen man. But I was obliged to speak. Now, then, those keys.”
“Go!” cried Stratton sternly. “Go. Leave me!”
“To play some other mad prank? Not I. I want those keys to get out the brandy.”
“I tell you no—no.”
“Very well. It was to save you from fainting. Faint then, and be hanged. Give me your arm.”
“Will you go?” cried Stratton fiercely.
“Yes, when you are on your bed, and then only to the door to call someone—”
“What?”
“To fetch the nearest doctor. Come along.”