He sat perfectly still.
But his eyes rolled so horribly that the Lady Loudwater started from her chair, uttered a faint scream, and fairly ran through the long window into the garden.
James Hutchings advanced to the table, thumped the decanter down on it--no way to treat an old vintage port--at Lord Loudwater's right hand, walked out of the room, and shut the door firmly behind him.
In the great hall he smiled a triumphant, malevolent smile.

Then he called Wilkins and Holloway, who stood together in the middle of it, cowardly dogs and shirkers, and strode past them to the door to the servants' quarters.
A few moments later Lord Loudwater rose to his feet and staggered dizzily along to the other end of the table.

He picked up his wife's half-emptied glass and sipped the port.

It was _not_ corked.

It was incredible! He would never forgive her! He rang the bell.