inning to be aware of that as he swallowed the fiery
mixture, but nothing in the world would now have prevented his drinking
every single drop of it. It was clear to him, among so much that was dim
owing to the wood-smoke, that the Major would miss a good many drives
to-morrow morning.

"And whose whisky is it?" he said, gulping down the fiery stuff.

"I know whose it's going to be," said the other.

"And I know whose it is now," retorted Puffin, "and I know whose whisky
it is that's filled you up ti' as a drum. Tight as a drum," he repeated
very carefully.

Major Flint was conscious of an unusual activity of brain, and, when he
spoke, of a sort of congestion and entanglement of words. It pleased him
to think that he had drunk so much of somebody's else whisky, but he
felt that he ought to be angry.

"That's a very unmentionable sor' of thing to say," he remarked. "An' if
it wasn't for the sacred claims of hospitality, I'd make you explain
just what you mean by that, and make you eat your words. Pologize, in
fact."

Puffin finished his glass at a gulp, and rose to his feet.

"Pologies be blowed," he said. "Hittopopamus!"

"And were you addressing that to me?" asked Major Flint with deadly
calm.

"Of course, I was. Hippot---- same animal as before. Pleasant old boy.
And as for the lemon you lent me, well, I don't want it any more. Have a
suck at it, ole fellow! I don't want it any more."

The Major turned purple in the face, made a course for the door like a
knight's move at chess (a long step in one direction and a short one at
right angles to the first) and opened it. The door thus served as an
aperture from the room and a support to himself. He spoke no word of any
sort or kind: his silence spoke for him in a far more dignified manner
than he could have managed for himself.

Captain Puffin stood for a moment wreathed in smiles, and fingering the
slice of lemon, which he had meant playfully to throw at his friend. But
his smile faded, and by some sort of telepathic perception he realized
how much more decorous it was to say (or, better, to indicate)
good-night in a dignified manner than to throw lemons about. He walked
in dots and dashes like a Morse code out of the room, bestowing a naval
salute on the Major as he passed. The latter returned it with a military
salute and a suppressed hiccup. Not a word passed.

Then Captain Puffin found his hat and coat without much difficulty, and
marched out of the ho