Tom rubbed his sticky eyelids, and shook his head violently in a Spartan
effort to rouse himself; but what more effectively performed the task for
him were certain sounds issuing from Harkless's room, across the hall. For
some minutes, Meredith had been dully conscious of a rustle and stir in
the invalid's chamber, and he began to realize that no mere tossing about
a bed would account for a noise that reached him across a wide hall and
through two closed doors of thick walnut. Suddenly he heard a quick, heavy
tread, shod, in Harkless's room, and a resounding bang, as some heavy
object struck the floor. The doctor was not to come till evening; Jim had
gone down-stairs. Who wore shoes in the sick man's room? He rushed across
the hall in his pyjamas and threw open the unlocked door.

The bed was disarranged and vacant. Harkless, fully dressed, was standing
in the middle of the floor, hurling garments at a big travelling bag.

The horrified Meredith stood for a second, bleached and speechless, then
he rushed upon his friend and seized him with both hands.

"Mad, by heaven! Mad!"

"Let go of me, Tom!"

"Lunatic! Lunatic!"

"Don't stop me one instant!"

Meredith tried to force him toward the bed. "For mercy's sake, get back to
bed. You're delirious, boy!"