Take your medicine!" But the lesson of the last half hour had not been lost on Barney. Up and down the long room, circling about his man, feinting to draw his attack, eluding, and again feinting, Barney kept his antagonist in such rapid motion and so intensely on the alert that his wind began to fail him, and it soon became evident that he could not stand the pace for very long.
"You've got him!" cried ****, in an ecstasy of expectation. "Keep it up, Barney! That's the game! You'll have him in five minutes more!"
"Quite evident," echoed Dr. Trent quietly, hugely enjoying the change in the situation.
Dr. Bulling heard the words. His pallor deepened. Red blotches began to appear on his cheek. The sweat stood out upon his forehead. His breath came in short gasps. He knew he could not last much longer. His only hope lay in immediate attack. He must finish off his man within the next minute or accept defeat. Nature was now taking revenge upon him for his long outraging of her laws.
Barney, on the other hand, though bruised and battered about the face, was stepping about easily and lightly, without any sign of the terrible punishment he had suffered. Reading his opponent's face he knew that the moment for a supreme effort had arrived, and waited for his plan to develop. There was only one thing for Bulling to do. Edging his opponent toward the corner and summoning his fast failing strength for a final attack, he forced him hard back into the angle of the wall. He had him now. One clean blow and all would be over.
"Look out, Barney!" yelled ****.
Suddenly, as if shot from a steel spring, Barney crouched low and leaped at his man, and disregarding two heavy blows, thrust one long arm forward and with his sinewy fingers gripped his enemy's throat. "Ha!" he cried with savage exultation, holding off his foe at arm's length. "Now! Now! Now!" As he uttered each word between his clenched teeth he shook the gasping, choking wretch as a dog shakes a rat. In vain his victim struggled to get free, now striking wild and futile blows, now clutching and clawing at those terrible gripping fingers. His face grew purple; his tongue protruded; his breath came in rasping gasps; his hands fell to his side. "Keep your hands so," hissed Barney, loosening his grip to give him air. "Ha! would you? Don't you move!" gripping him hard again. "There!" loosening once more, "now, are you a liar? Speak quick!" The blue lips made an attempt at the affirmation of which the head made the sign. "Say it again. Are you a liar?" Once more the head nodded and the lips attempted to speak. "Yes," said Barney, still through his clenched teeth, "you are a cowardly liar!" The words came forth with terrible deliberation. "I could kill you with my hands as you stand. But I won't, you cur! I'll just do this." As he spoke he once more tightened his grip upon the throat and swung his open hand on the livid cheek.
"For God's sake, Boyle," cried Foxmore, "let up! That's enough!"
"Yes, it's enough," said Barney, flinging the semi-conscious man on the floor, "it's enough for him. Foxmore, you laughed, I think, when he uttered that lie," he said in a voice smooth, almost sweet, but that chilled the hearts of the hearers, "you laughed. You were a beastly cad, weren't you? Speak!"
"What? I--I--" gasped Foxmore, backing into the corner.
"Quick, quick!" cried Barney, stepping lightly toward him on his toes, "say it quick!" His fingers were working convulsively.
"Yes, yes, I was!" cried Foxmore, backing further away behind the others.
"Yes," cried Barney, his voice rising hoarse, "you would all of you laugh at that brute ruin the name and honour of a lonely girl!" He walked up and down before the group which stood huddled in the corner in abject terror, more like a wild beast than a man.
"You're not fit to live! You're beasts of prey! No decent girl is safe from you!" His voice rose loud and thin and harsh. He was fast losing hold of himself. His ghastly face, bloody and horribly disfigured, made an appalling setting for his blazing eyes. Nearer and nearer the crowd he walked, gnashing and grinding his teeth till the foam fell from his lips. The wild fury of his Highland ancestors was turning him into a wild beast with a wild beast's lust of blood. Further and further back cowered the group without a word, so utterly panic-stricken were they.
"Barney," said **** quietly, "come home." He stopped short, with a mighty effort recalling his reason. For a few moments he stood silent looking at the floor, then, raising his eyes, he let them rest upon the doctor, who was leaning against the wall, and, without a word, turned and slowly passed out of the room.
"Gad!" said Foxmore, with a horrible gasp of relief, "if the devil looks like that I never want to see him."
