“'Confound you for a fool!' said Towers, angrily. 'You 'll see what a change an hour will make in him. I 've got the receipt for that milk-punch up in my room. I 'll go and fetch it' And with this he arose, and hastily left the room.
“'Where's Tom?' said the sick man, with a look of painful eagerness. 'Where is he?'
“'He's gone for the receipt of the milk-punch; he's going to make a brew for you!' said I.
“'But I won't take it. I 'll taste nothing more,' said he, with a marked emphasis. 'I 'll take nothing but what Loo gives me,' muttered he, below his breath. And we all exchanged significant looks with each other.
“'This will never do,' murmured Wake, in a low voice. 'Say something—tell a story—but let us keep moving.'
“And Collins began some narrative of his early experiences on the Turf. The story, like all such, was the old burden of knave and dupe,—the man who trusted and the man who cheated. None of us paid much attention to the details, but drank away at our wine, and sent the decanters briskly round, when suddenly, at the mention of a horse being found dead in his stall on the morning he was to have run, Hawke broke in with 'Nobbled! Just like me!'
“Though the words were uttered in a sort of revery, and with a bent-down head, we all were struck dumb, and gazed ruefully at each other. 'Where's Towers all this time?' said Collins to me, in a whisper. I looked at my watch, and saw that it was forty-four minutes since he left the room. I almost started up from my seat with terror, as I thought what this long absence might portend. Had he actually gone off, leaving us all to the perils that were surrounding us? Was it that he had gone to betray us to the law? I could not speak from fear when the door opened, and he came in and sat down in his place. Though endeavoring to seem easy and unconcerned, I could mark that he wore an air of triumph and success that he could not subdue.
“'Here comes the brew,' said he, as the servant brought in a large smoking bowl of fragrant mixture.
“'I 'll not touch it!' said Hawke, with a resolute tone that startled us.
“'What! after giving me more than half an hour's trouble in preparing it,' said Towers. 'Come, old fellow, that is not gracious.'