"Just the question of his finding out something that's apt to make him manhandle young Ashton."
"Ah—all the better, I say. Anything to divert his mind."
Griffith looked at the Englishman with an approving smile. "You sure are the goods, Mr. Scarbridge! It'll take two or three days for him to fight down the craving, even with all the help we can give him. Wait a minute till I phone to a drug-store."
He shuffled out through a side doorway that led into his private office. While he was telephoning, Lord James heard low moans from the bedroom. He clenched his hands, but he did not go in to his friend until Griffith returned and crossed to the inner door.
"Come in, Mr. Scarbridge," he said. "Next thing is to see if we can talk him into going to Michamac."
CHAPTER XX
DE PROFUNDIS
He opened the door and, seemingly heedless of all else, hastened through to the bathroom, to shut off the flow of the shower. Lord James followed him as far as the corner cot, where Blake, wet-haired and half dressed, sat bowed far over, his elbows on his knees and his face between his hands.
"Head ache, old man?"
Blake raised his head barely enough for his friend to catch a glimpse of his haggard face and miserable eyes.