A herd of bullocks does not travel very quickly, and even with a few hours' start in a forty-mile journey is easily over-taken by a troop of horse travelling without encumbrance.
You understand, then, how easily our lieutenant yielded himself to the luxurious circumstances, and disposed himself to savour the second bottle of that nectar distilled from the very sunshine of the Douro--the phrase is his own.

The steward produced a box of very choice cigars, and although the lieutenant was not an habitual smoker, he permitted himself on this exceptional occasion to be further tempted.

Stretched in a deep chair beside the roaring fire of pine logs, he sipped and smoked and drowsed away the greater par of that wintry afternoon.

Soon the third bottle had gone the way of the second, and Mr.Bearsley's steward being a man of extremely temperate habit, it follows that most of the wine had found its way down the lieutenant's thirsty gullet.
It was perhaps a more potent vintage than he had at first suspected, and as the torpor produced by the dinner and the earlier, fuller wine was wearing off, it was succeeded by an exhilaration that played havoc with the few wits that Mr.Butler could call his own.
The steward was deeply learned in wines and wine growing and in very little besides; consequently the talk was almost confined to that subject in its many branches, and he could be interesting enough, like all enthusiasts.

To a fresh burst of praise from Butler of the ruby vintage to which he had been introduced, the steward presently responded with a sigh: "Indeed, as you say, Captain, a great wine.