But Harkaway senior, stretching out his hand, took the flask.
"No, Mr. Mole; if you have any more, I fear we shall have a more serious accident. So not a drop till the first time we stop."
"Why, this is a mail train, and only stops about every two hours."
"And I am quite sure you can exist without brandy for that little time."
"Well, I suppose I may smoke then?"
"Certainly; you shall have one of my best regalias."
Mr. Mole took the weed, and puffed away rather sulkily.
They had got about eight miles from Marseilles when suddenly the engine slackened speed, and the train drew up at a little roadside station.
"What does this mean?" said Harvey. "We ought not to stop here."
"This is our first stopping place, however, so I'll trouble you for my flask, according to promise," said Mole, with a beaming countenance.