Phew! the memory of it is delicious!" "Why don't you go to bed ?" Trent said.

"You'll need all your strength to-morrow!" Monty waved his hand with serene contempt.
"I am a man of humours, my dear friend," he said, "and to-night my humour is to talk and to be merry.

What is it the philosophers tell us ?--that the sweetest joys of life are the joys of anticipation.

Here we are, then, on the eve of our triumph--let us talk, plan, be happy.
Bah! how thirsty it makes one! Come, Trent, what stake will you have me set up against that other tumblerful of brandy." "No stake that you can offer," Trent answered shortly.

"That drop of brandy may stand between us and death.