"Didn't I tell you he was going away when I saw him? It was only the latch of the door catching his top-coat that made me see his red waistcoat; and it was a wonder then that I saw it, for I am not very noticeable in those things. Oh, dear, how bad my cough is."
"Take some of your brandy-and-water, sir," said one of the thieves, as he winked at the other. "It will do you good, sir."
"Not a doubt of it," said the other.
"Do you think so? Well—well, perhaps it may. Here's my friendship to both of you, gentlemen; and I hope we shall none of us repent of this happy meeting. I am much pleased, gentlemen, to see you both, and hope the brandy-and-water will do us all a world of good. I will give you a toast, gentlemen."
"Ah, a toast!—a toast!"
"But mind gentlemen, you must take a good draught, if you drink my toast—Will you?"
"Will we? Ay, to be sure, if you will."
"I promise, gentlemen; so here's the toast—It's to the very cunning fox who laid a trap for another, and caught his own tail in it!"
"What a droll toast!" said the two thieves. They paused a moment, but as they saw their new friend drink at least one-half of his brandy-and-water in honour of the toast, they did the same thing, and looked at each other quite contented and pleased as possible that the drugged spirit, at the very first pull, had been so freely partaken of—for they had found, by experience, the victims they would have made perceived a disagreeable taste, and would not drink twice.
"Hilloa!" said Todd.