it really
doesn't matter, as I'm sorry to say he's much too 'fresh' (as they call
it down here) to remember anything to-morrow morning. I let him have it,
I can tell you. Varlet! Caitiff! But if you bolt off on the head of it,
I shall go back and sack him into the bargain!"

I assured him I had my own reasons for wishing to retire early. He could
have no conception of my weakness, my low and nervous condition of
body and mind; much as I had enjoyed myself, he must really let me go.
Another glass of wine, then? Just one more? No, I had drunk too much
already. I was in no state to stand it. And I held out my hand with
decision.

Instead of taking it he looked at me very hard.

"The place doesn't suit you," said he. "I see it doesn't, and I'm
devilish sorry! Take my advice and try something milder; now do,
to-morrow; for I should never forgive myself if it made you worse
instead of better; and the air is too strong for lots of people."

I was neither too ill nor too vexed to laugh outright in his face.

"It's not the air," said I; "it's that splendid old Madeira of yours,
that was too strong for me, if you like! No, no, Rattray, you don't get
rid of me so cheaply-much as you seem to want to!"

"I was only thinking of you," he rejoined, with a touch of pique that
convinced me of his sincerity. "Of course I want you to stop, though
I shan't be here many days; but I feel responsible for you, Cole,
and that's the fact. Think you can find your way?" he continued,
accompanying me to the gate, a postern in the high garden wall. "Hadn't
you better have a lantern?"

No; it was unnecessary. I could see splendidly, had the bump of locality
and as many more lies as would come to my tongue. I was indeed burning
to be gone.

A moment later I feared that I had shown this too plainly. For his final
handshake was hearty enough to send me away something ashamed of
my precipitancy, and with a further sense of having shown him
small gratitude for his kindly anxiety on my behalf. I would behave
differently to-morrow. Meanwhile I had new regrets.

At first it was comparatively easy to see, for the lights of the house
shone faintly among the nearer oaks. But the moon was hidden behind
heavy clouds, and I soon found myself at a loss in a terribly dark zone
of timber. Already I had left the path. I felt in my pocket for matches.
I had none.

My head was now clear enough, only deservedly heavy. I was still
quarrelling with myself for