dying down. But Sir Reginald ate and talked for the three of us, whether it was the inspiration of Angel's presence, or the exhilarating drive, or the memory of the terrible country fare we had had to deal with on our last visit to Aldley, I do not know, but he ate, and ate largely, of everything, and drank as much as he ate. Two glasses of old brown sherry, half a bottle of hock, a bottle and a half of champagne and three glasses of liqueur brandy raised him to such a height of spirits as I have never seen in a human being.
After lunch he was almost boisterous; he no longer toddled, but skipped. Fortunately, at the foot of the tower he stopped us and told us a long, humorous anecdote. We were hardly in the mood for humor of any kind, and it is quite inconceivable that we could, at any moment in our lives, have been m the mood for humor of that kind. Every one of the gurgling bleats with which he starred it was an insult to our intelligence. My anger grew and grew; the truth of Chelubai's contention, that a man who could wantonly and without ceasing raise such an evil passion in a fellow creature was truly an enemy of Humanity, grew plainer and plainer. I saw that Angel's eyes were blazing with a fury as savage as my own.
"Let us go to the top of the tower," I said, in a choking voice.
Angel led the way with a resolute step. I per-
