"Benito," he said. "Don't you know me? It's Adrian!"
Brown with a lighted lamp came nearer, so that Stanley saw the sufferer's eyes. They were incognizant of realities. The murmuring voice droned on, fretfully, "I've looked for her everywhere. She's gone! gone!"
Suddenly he cried out: "Alice! Alice!" half rising. But he tumbled back upon the pillow with a swift collapse of weakness and his words waned into mumbled incoherence.
"Benito," Adrian addressed him earnestly, "Alice is with me. With me and Inez. She's safe. I'll bring her to you in the morning. Do you understand?"
"With you--with Inez?" the sick man repeated. "Then tell her to come. I want her. Tell Alice to come--"
"Tomorrow," Dr. Jones said, soothingly, "when you've had a chance to rest."
"No, tonight," the fevered eyes stared up at them imploringly. Jones drew Adrian aside. "Pretend you'll do it or hell wear himself out. Then go. I'll give him something that will make him sleep." He emptied a powder in a tumbler of water and held it out to the sick man. "Drink this," he ordered, "it'll give you strength to see Miss Burthen."
Benito's lips obediently quaffed the drink. His head lay quieter upon the pillow. Slowly, as they watched, the eyelids closed.
"And now," said Adrian when he had assured himself that Benito slept, "I'm going for McTurpin."
"Don't be a confounded fool," Dr. Jones said quickly.