Then indeed Red saw a strange sight. He had seen many men angry in his time; he now saw one angrier than he would have believed possible without an outburst of profanity. Black grew so pale he might have been going to faint if the glitter in his black eyes hadn’t told the tale of a vitality which was simply taking it out that way instead of by showing red, as most men do. He opened his lips once and closed them again. He raised his right hand and slowly clenched it, looking down at it, while Red watched him curiously. At last he spoke, in a strange, low voice, still looking at that right hand of his:
“I never wanted anything in my life so much as to knock you down—for that,” he said; and then his eyes went from his clenched fist to look straight into Red’s.
“Why don’t you do it? I give you leave. It was an insult—I admit it—the second one. But I don’t take it back. It’s what I think—honestly. If you don’t like it, it’s up to you to prove yourself of a different calibre.”
Red still sat astride of his chair, watching Black, whose gaze had gone back to that right hand of his. He opened and closed it again—and once more, and then he spoke.
“Doctor Burns,” he said, slowly, “I don’t think I have to take this sort of thing from you—and I don’t think I will.” He walked over to his study door, opened it, and stood there waiting, like a figure cut out of stone. Red leaped to his feet, his own eyes snapping.
“By jolly!” he shouted, seizing his hat and coat. “I don’t have to be shown the door twice!” And he strode across the floor. As he came up to Black the two pairs of eyes met again. Anything sadder than the look now in Black’s, overriding his anger, Red never had seen. It almost made him pause—not quite. He went along out and the door closed quietly behind him.
In the hall a plump, middle-aged figure was coming toward him. Anxiety was written large on Mrs. Hodder’s austerely motherly face. He would have gone by her with a nod, but she put out a hand to stop him, and spoke in a whisper:
“I hope, Doctor, you cheered him up a little. Poor man—I never saw him so down.”
Red grunted. “No—I’m afraid I didn’t cheer him up much,” he admitted, gruffly. “He wasn’t in any mood to be cheered.”
“No, indeed. A body can’t get over such news as he had to-day in a hurry. He hasn’t eat a mouthful since he heard.”