Then Monty sent a servant to his own quarters for some prized possession that he mentioned in a whisper behind his hand. None of us suspected what it might be until the man returned presently with a quart bottle of Scotch whisky. Kagig himself got mugs down from a shelf three inches wide, and Monty poured libations. Kagig, standing with legs apart, drank his share of the strong stuff without waiting; and that brought out the chief surprise of the evening.
"Ah-h-h!" he exclaimed, using the back of his hand to wipe mobile lips, "Not since I drank in Tony's have I tasted that stuff! The taste makes me homesick for what never was my home, nor ever can be! Tony's—ah!"
"What Tony's?" demanded Will, emerging from whispered interludes with Gloria like a man coming out of a dream.
"Tony's down near the Battery."
"What—the Battery, New York?"
"Where else? Tony was a friend of mine. Tony lent me money when I landed in the States without a coin. It was right that I should take a last drink with Tony before I came away for ever."
Fred reached into the corner for a lump of wood and set it down suggestively before the fire. Kagig accepted and sat down on it, stretching his legs out rather wearily.
"I noticed you've been remembering your English much better than at first," said Will. "Go on, man, tell us!"
Kagig cleared his throat and warmed himself while his eyes seemed to search the flames for stories from a half-forgotten past.
"Weren't the States good enough for you?" Will suggested, by way of starting him off.
