But a glass at least, at least!" He implored it almost with tears.

Mr.Butler had reached that state of delicious torpor in which to take the road is the last agony; but duty was duty, and Sir Robert Craufurd had the fiend's own temper.

Torn thus between consciousness of duty and the weakness of the flesh, he looked at O'Rourke.

O'Rourke, a cherubic fellow, who had for his years a very pretty taste in wine, returned the glance with a moist eye, and licked his lips.
"In your place I should let myself be tempted," says he.

"It's an elegant wine, and ten minutes more or less is no great matter." The lieutenant discovered a middle way which permitted him to take a prompt decision creditable to his military instincts, but revealing a disgraceful though quite characteristic selfishness.
"Very well," he said.