After the effect of the opiate had passed, their patient was seized with paroxysms of raving and frantic efforts to leave his bed for the purpose of protecting his property. At such times it required the united efforts of the two volunteer nurses to restrain him, and after each attack he was left weak and helpless as an infant. Then he would weep, and beg piteously not to be abandoned to the mercy of his enemies; or he would fancy himself still in the awful blackness of the ancient workings, and plead with his attendants not to be left thereto die.
"For the sake of my daughter, gentlemen—my only child—who has no one else in the world to love her or care for her, I beg of you to save me. If you are human, take pity on her and let me go!" he would cry.
At such times no voice, not even Mary's, seemed to soothe him as did that of Peveril, and his most violent struggles were controlled by the gentle firmness of the young athlete.
All through that dreadful night Mary Darrell watched Peveril with tear-filled eyes, wondering at his strength and gentleness, and unconsciously loving him for them. Not that she would for an instant have admitted such a thing even to herself. She tried instead to believe that he was the cause of all this sorrow, and that she hated him for it. "In whatever he does," she said to herself, "he is actuated by remorse, and a desire to atone in some way for ruining my father's life."
The anxiously awaited dawn found Ralph Darrell lying quietly with closed eyes and Peveril keeping wakeful watch beside him. Aunty Nimmo had been sent to her bed long since, and Connell was fast asleep on the floor of the hall just outside the sick-room door. Mary Darrell sat in an easy-chair, overcome by exhaustion, also sleeping lightly.
As the growing light fell on her tear-stained face, crowned by a wealth of close-clipped hair curling in tiny ringlets, Peveril looked at her curiously, and wondered why he had never thought her beautiful until that moment. Apparently conscious of the young man's gaze, the girl suddenly opened her eyes, and a faint flush suffused her pale cheeks. Ere either she or Peveril could speak, the muffled sound of a steam-whistle broke the morning stillness.
"Our friends have come, Miss Darrell," whispered the watcher. "You have just time to go to your room and refresh yourself with a dash of cold water before they appear."
Nodding assent, the girl accepted the suggestion and departed.
Then Peveril sent Connell to meet the new-comers, who, as he knew, would steam directly into the land-locked basin, and remained to finish his vigil alone.
Suddenly, as he sat absorbed in meditation, the madman, who had been watching through half-closed eyes, sprang upon him without a sound of warning and clutched his throat with a vise-like grip.