DeNortier was drinking deep; fooled in his most trusty man, and chagrined and vexed, to hide his anger he had poured down goblet after goblet of the wine. It was in vain I tried to check him; he was deaf to all my words of warning, and heard me unmoved, as without a moment's hesitation he kept up his debauchery. Although his head was as marble, it would have been more than human if the wine had not begun to tell on him. He said nothing, but silently drank again and again, as though he were an automaton. I had sipped my wine sparingly, as had also Oliver; for I knew not how the drunken debauchery would end. I could not withdraw as yet, but as soon as DeNortier lost consciousness, as he was sure to do in a few moments if he kept up his mad course, I had determined to take Oliver, and barricade ourselves in our room, where we would be safe until the men became sober and the Count was himself. And now a whisper circulated among the pirates, who, keyed up to a drunken frenzy by the wine they had drunk, were but looking for someone to vent their insane rage upon, and were ripe for any mischief. I had heard the whispered word: "What do these Englishmen as the guests of our captain? Let us bind them, and string them up to the nearest tree. They are intermeddlers, and have no business in our midst." I heard a burly ruffian whisper this to his neighbor, and saw him pass it on, until now it had gone around the table, and all eyes were turned to me. They had seen me practice with the sword, and shoot with the musketoon; plainly they hesitated before attacking so formidable a foe. But all they needed was a few more glasses to nerve them up to the work; then, careless of consequences, they would rush upon Oliver and myself and overpower us by sheer force of numbers. The time had come for me to retire; for DeNortier was asleep, and could take no offense when he found out later what I had done. Bending over, I whispered to the lad to rise and leave the room. The Count stirred at the sound of my low tones; his head had fallen upon the table and he was wrapped in a drunken sleep, but even as we moved to rise, he staggered to his feet, his eyes red and bloodshot. "Up, every man!" he cried to his crew. "Up and drink one last toast with me! Fill high the goblets! It is the last that we shall drink together, and the best." Habit is near akin to nature; and the habit of obedience brought every one of these drunken brutes to his feet, cups in hand. There, lurching and tipsy, they stood. The Count had filled his goblet high, and as he did so his eye fell upon us where we sat. "Up, my noble ally!" he cried. "I give a toast that thou canst not refuse. Why sittest thou silent? Up, I say!" Whispering to Oliver to rise, I stood up, cup in hand. We would leave when we had drunk this toast, as it would take only a few minutes, and I did not care to offend the Count.