As the words left Guest's lips he started, for there was a sudden flash;
then, for a moment, his eyes were dazzled; the next he was in profound
darkness.

Stratton's fingers, unseen by his friend, had closed upon and turned the
button of the lamp.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

A STARTLING SITUATION.

Three steps back were sufficient--three steps taken suddenly in that
profound darkness were enough, in the excitement of the moment, to make
Guest completely lose what a nautical man would call "his bearings;"
and, startled, as well as puzzled, he waited, in utter ignorance of his
position in the room, for what was to come next.

Time and again he had been uneasy, even startled, by his friend's
actions, feeling that there was a certain amount of mental aberration.
He had felt, too, that it was quite possible that in some sudden
paroxysm, when galled by his dictation, Stratton might strike at him,
but until now he had never known absolute fear.

For, manly and reckless as he was as a rule, he could not conceal from
himself that Stratton was, after all, dangerous. That turning out of
the light had been intentional; there must have been an object in view,
and, in his tremor of nerve, Guest could think of no other aim than that
of making a sudden attack upon one who had become irksome to him.

They were quite alone in that solitary place. If he called for help, no
one would hear, and he might be struck down and killed. Stratton, in
his madness, might find some means of hiding his body, and--what then?
Edie--poor little Edie, with her bright ways and merry, teasing smiles?
He would never see her again; and she, too, poor little one, would be
heart-broken, till some luckier fellow came along to make her happy.

"No, I'll be hanged if he shall," thought Guest, as a culmination to the
rapid rush of thought that flashed through his brain. "Poor old
Stratton is really as mad as a hatter; but, even if he has such
thoughts, I've as good a chance as he has in the dark, and I'll die
hard. Bah! who's going to die? Where's the window, or the door? Here,
this is a nice game, Mal," he said aloud, quite firmly. "Where are your
matches?"

But, as he spoke, he made a couple of rapid steps silently, to his
right, with outstretched hands, so as to conceal his position from
Stratton in the event of the latter meditating an attack--an event which
Guest would not now allow.

There was no reply, and Guest stood listening for a few m