"But are you really an impostor?"
"I should not be in this cellar else."
"You are very mystifying."
"For the present I prefer to remain so."
We tossed aside the apple-cores, rose, and went on. It was the longest cellar I ever saw. There seemed absolutely no end to it. The wine-cellar was walled apart from the main cellar, and had the semblance of a huge cistern with a door opening into it. As we passed it, the vague perfume of the grape drifted out to us.
"Let's have a bottle," I began.
"Mr. Comstalk!"
"By absent-treatment!" I hastened to add.
"You will make a capital comrade—if we ever get out of this cellar."
"Trust me for that!" I replied gaily. "Be careful; there's a pile of empty bottles, yearning to be filled with tomato-catsup. Give me your hand."