The Lake of Wine

by Bernard Capes

Both gentlemen protested; but the other would not listen, and he ended by carrying his point.

“And now,” said Blythewood, “charge your piece—whatever it is—and let fly at our friend; and so to t’other glass.”

Captain Luvaine’s eyes had a light of strange trouble in them, and he gnawed his knuckles nervously.

“I startled you just now, Mr. Tuke,” he said. “’Twas some words you let fall disturbed me, so that I dropped the book.”

“Believe me, sir, I was innocent of designs on your composure.”

“I know, I know—that is, of course—how could it be otherwise?”

“How, indeed? But I am all at sea.”

“They could not have been accidental. No, ’twas impossible. And yet—you uttered the words, sir—‘the Lake of Wine’—there was no mistake. I heard you.”

“And what then, Captain Luvaine? Do I deny it?”

“No, no. Only—oh, sir! the lady says ‘What mystery?’ and you answer ‘The Lake of Wine.’ Could that be an invention—a mere playful fancy? ’Tis out of reason.”