CHAPTER VI.
AUBREY PUTS DOWN HIS FOOT Ronnie's first sensation as he returned to consciousness, was of extreme lassitude and exhaustion.
His eyelids lifted heavily; he had some difficulty in realising where he was.
Then he saw his 'cello, leaning against a chair; and, a moment later, Aubrey Treherne, lying back in the seat opposite, enveloped in a cloud of tobacco smoke.
"Hullo, West!" said Aubrey, kindly.

"You put in your half-hour quite unexpectedly.

You were trying, in a sleepy fashion, to tell me how you came to purchase this fine 'cello; but you dropped off, with the tale unfinished." Ronnie looked in silence at his wife's cousin.
"Are you the better for your sleep ?" "I am fagged out," said Ronnie, wearily.
Aubrey went to a cupboard, poured something into a glass, and handed it to Ronald.
"Drink this, my boy.

It will soon wake you up." Ronnie drank it.

Its tint was golden, its odour, fragrant; but otherwise, for aught he knew, it might have been pure water.
He sat up and took careful note of his surroundings.
Then an idea seemed to strike him.