The strange scene began to intoxicate me, its stirring suggestion mounting to my head like fumes of wine.

I seized the cup and held it high in my hand.

I looked down in the King's face, and thence to Madame's; to her I bowed low and cried: "By His Majesty's permission I will drain this cup to the honour of the fairest and most illustrious Princess, Madame the Duchess of Orleans." The Duchess half-rose from her seat, crying in a loud whisper, "Not to me, no, no! I can't have him drink it to me." The King still held her hand.
"Drink it to me, Mr Dale," said he.
I bowed to him and put the cup to my lips.

I was in the act to drink, when M.de Perrencourt spoke.
"A moment, sir," he said calmly.

"Have I the King's permission to tell Mr Dale a secret concerning this wine ?" The Duke of York looked up with a frown, the King turned to M.de Perrencourt as if in doubt, the Frenchman met his glance and nodded.
"M.