"I drink so little that I scarcely know the proper taste," observed Eliza. "The pure spring water is my favourite beverage."
"It is considered an unlucky omen to leave unfinished the glass in which you pledge the health of one who is about to traverse the ocean," said Stephens.
"In that case," answered Eliza, with a smile, "I will relieve your superstitious fears;" and she drained her glass.
Half an hour passed in conversation; and Eliza felt an irresistible drowsiness coming over her. She endeavoured to rally against it—but in vain; and at length she would have fallen from her chair fast asleep, had not Stephens rushed forward and caught her.
He then rang the bell for the servant.
"Your mistress is unwell—she has been complaining all the evening; and she has now fallen into a profound sleep. I will assist you to convey her up stairs to her chamber."
Stephens and the servant carried the entranced lady to the boudoir.
Having placed her upon the bed, Stephens left the servant to undress her, and hastily descended to the hall. He opened the front door with caution, and whistled.
Two men emerged from the total darkness without, and glided into the hall. Stephens conducted them into a back parlour, and gave them the key to lock themselves in.
He himself then returned to the dining-room, where he tranquilly awaited the arrival of Mr. Greenwood.