"How awkward I am!" he cried; and, while Eliza hastened to re-light the lamp, he poured a few drops from a phial into one of the glasses of wine.
The lamp was lighted once more; and Eliza had resumed her seat.
Stephens handed her the fatal glass.
"May all health and happiness attend you," he said: "and may God reward you for your generosity towards me."
The words did not stick in his throat as he gave them utterance.
"And may you prosper in another clime," exclaimed Eliza in a tone which proved that the wish came from the bottom of her heart.
She then drank a portion of the wine in her glass.
The countenance of Stephens did not change as Eliza imbibed the soporific fluid. He contemplated her beauteous face with as much calmness as if he had just administered to her a potion calculated to embellish her charms, and add to her health and happiness.
"Either my taste deceives me," said Eliza, placing the half-emptied glass upon the table; "or this wine has some defect which I cannot understand."
"No—it is excellent," returned Stephens.