Noble wine! Friend of the friendless, companion of the solitary, lifter-up of hearts that are oppressed, inspirer of brave thoughts in them that fail beneath the burden of being.

Thanks to thee, O priceless wine!" A bookseller's window arrested him.

There, open to the gaze of every pedestrian, stood a volume of which the sight made him thrill with rapture; a finely illustrated folio, a treatise on the Cathedrals of France.

Five guineas was the price it bore.

A moment's lingering, restrained by some ignoble spirit of thrift which the wine had not utterly overcome, and he entered the shop.