The thing was driven from my head the next moment by a brief and harsh order from the King.
"Drink, sir, drink." Strained with excitement, I started at the order, and slopped some of the wine from the cup on my hand.

I felt a strange burning where it fell; but again the King cried, "Drink, sir." I hesitated no more.

Recalling my wandering wits and determining to play my part in the comedy, whatever it might mean, I bowed, cried "God save your Majesty," and raised the cup to my lips.

As it touched them, I saw Madame hide her eyes with her hand and M.de Perrencourt lean farther across the table, while a short quick gasp of breath came from where Darrell stood by my side.
I knew how to take off a bumper of wine.

No sippings and swallowings for me! I laid my tongue well down in the bottom of my mouth that the liquor might have fair passage to my gullet, and threw my head back as you see a hen do (in thanks to heaven, they say, though she drinks only water).
Then I tilted the cup, and my mouth was full of the wine.