"Arthur, don't throw another card!" exclaimed Wilkins, at the same time arresting the uplifted hand.
Arthur struggled to release it, but Wilkins held it firmly, and drew him back from the table as he sat in his chair, and held him fixedly there in his grasp.
"Arthur, I treat you as I would a younger brother; an
eye experienced in such matters shows me the danger you are in; stop now, in mercy to yourself and all who love you."
"Release me, Mr. Wilkins; you have no right to act in this manner to me, sir."
"Yes!" shouted Quirk, seizing an empty bottle with a dreadful imprecation, and levelling it at Wilkins' head, "release him this minute if you don't want this through your skull!"
At this instant one of the other clerks caught sight of Guly, who had stood where he stopped, as if spell-bound, through all this scene.
"Look there!" cried the young man, pointing toward the staircase, and dropping the cards he held.
They all turned their heads and looked toward Guly, who seemed, standing there in his white robe, with the lamp elevated just in front of his forehead, not unlike some spiritual visitant bearing a star on his brow.
The attention which had been called to him, seemed in a measure to rouse Guly, for he came on slowly down the stairs, but with his blue eyes open and fixed like one walking in his sleep.