“There ought to be some good wine in this locker, if the bottles were not broken during the hurricane,” said La Touche, rising and lifting up the lid. Groping about, he produced a couple of bottles of claret, and another of cognac.
“There are several more here, so that we need not stint ourselves,” he said, laughing.
A corkscrew was soon found. I took a couple of glasses. The wine was excellent, there was no doubt about that. La Touche pressed me to take a third. “Come, we must pledge each other,” he said, replenishing my glass, and filling up his own. “Here’s to the continuance of our friendship.”
I felt pretty well tired, as I had been up the whole of the last night, and a good portion of the previous one, so I was not sorry to have something to set me up. We struck our glasses together, and wished each other health, prosperity, and promotion.
“You like the wine,” said La Touche. “Come—another glass; now we must finish the bottle, and I don’t wish to take a larger share than you have.”
“No, no, my friend,” I answered, thinking there was something peculiar in his manner. “I command this craft, and must keep a cool head on my shoulders, but I have no objection to your finishing the bottle, and taking a second, if you like.”
In vain he pressed me, for the more he pressed, the more determined I became not to take another drop. I found the wine indeed stronger than I had supposed it was. Besides which, I recollected the major’s advice, which strengthened me in my resolution.