" Even in the dark days of the fever, each of which had carried
thought and action of hers to the scene of trouble, there had reigned
unbroken silence, except for the vicar's notes of warm and appreciative
gratitude.
"You are very obstinate, Fergus," Mr. Penzance had said.
And Mount Dunstan had shaken his head fiercely and answered:
"Don't speak to me about it. Only obstinacy will save me from behaving
like--other blackguards."
Mr. Penzance, carefully polishing his eyeglasses as he watched him, was
not sparing in his comment.
"That is pure folly," he said, "pure bull-necked, stubborn folly,
charging with its head down. Before it has done with you it will have
made you suffer quite enough."
"Be sure of that," Mount Dunstan had said, setting his teeth, as he
sat in his chair clasping his hands behind his head and glowering into
space.
Mr. Penzance quietly, speculatively, looked him over, and reflected
aloud--or, so it sounded.
"It is a big-boned and big-muscled characteristic, but there are things
which are stronger. Some one minute will arrive--just one minute--which
will be stronger. One of those moments when the mysteries of the
universe are at work."
"Don't speak to me like that, I tell you!" Mount Dunstan broke out
passionately.
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