"His Excellency told me that I was to refuse you nothing, but he advises you to drink only the white wine until his return." "He really left that message ?" "Precisely as I have delivered it." The desire for whisky passed, came again but was beaten back, returned in the night so that he sat up with the sweat pouring down his face and his tongue parched.

He drank lithia water instead.

Late in the afternoon of the third day, Von Ragastein rode into the camp.

His clothes were torn and drenched with the black mud of the swamps, dust and dirt were thick upon his face.

His pony almost collapsed as he swung himself off.
Nevertheless, he paused to greet his guest with punctilious courtesy, and there was a gleam of real satisfaction in his eyes as the two men shook hands.
"I am glad that you are still here," he said heartily.