I was parched with thirst, and drank it off at a draught.

Almost instantly afterwards, I was seized with a fit of giddiness, and felt more completely intoxicated than ever.

The room whirled round and round furiously; the old soldier seemed to be regularly bobbing up and down before me like the piston of a steam-engine.

I was half deafened by a violent singing in my ears; a feeling of utter bewilderment, helplessness, idiocy, overcame me.

I rose from my chair, holding on by the table to keep my balance; and stammered out that I felt dreadfully unwell--so unwell that I did not know how I was to get home.
"My dear friend," answered the old soldier--and even his voice seemed to be bobbing up and down as he spoke--"my dear friend, it would be madness to go home in _your_ state; you would be sure to lose your money; you might be robbed and murdered with the greatest ease.