"Well, I shall go and see where Maud is," he said, "and if she is downstairs I shall tell her that I am going to my room to sleep till it is time to dress, so that I can get away by myself. She trusts me, I think, even after all that has happened. Good heavens! why am I telling you this?" he said suddenly. "You will tell her now, damn you! and spoil it all." Cochrane interrupted quietly. "Your damning me doesn't hurt," he said, "and I solemnly promise you not to give your plan away. There's no chemist very near, I'm afraid, but there's one in Port Washington; we passed the place this afternoon." "Ah, you've warned him," said Thurso. "I have done nothing of the kind, nor shall I. Pray get on." The pleasure that the diseased imagination took in the projection of its plans was suggestive of the joy of their realisation. Thurso gulped as he spoke. "I take it, then, that you won't interfere," he said. "Well, I shall go to my room and forge--yes, forge a prescription. I'm getting a rare hand at that." He gave a little cackle of delight; the impulse that a couple of minutes ago had prompted the cry for help was half smothered, and he was conscious of one need only. He pointed a warning finger at Cochrane. "It's understood that you do nothing to hinder me," he said, "nothing tangible, practical, though you can treat me--don't you call it?--till all's blue. Then I shall send to the stable, and tell a man and horse to go down to the chemist's, wait for the prescription to be made up, and bring it back. Lord Thurso, you know! Republicans think a lot of a lord, and they'll hurry, because they've got a fine specimen of one now. And I shall sit gnawing my nails till that bottle comes back. Then--two hours' Paradise before dinner. God! I wonder the whole world doesn't take to laudanum. Paradise made up while you wait. Cheap, too." "Remarkably cheap," said Cochrane. "Ah, you are laughing at me. But you don't know, you can't guess----" Thurso came close up to him and pressed his arm. The latent hostility was all gone; here was a friend who should be told what he was missing. So easy was it to get out of hell into purgatory, and through purgatory past the unbarred gates of a Paradise of rose and gold. No flaming-sworded angel was there; a glass and a bottle were the pass-word for admittance. You had but to draw a stopper, chink a glass, and drink, and the whole world was changed. The thought invaded and encompassed him. He could think of nothing but that. "Suppose you try it one night," he said to Cochrane, "when you are staying down here, as you will be to-morrow? You just see; there's no need for any healing any more--the thing is health and life. I say, wouldn't it be funny if, after I had come over here to be cured by you, I succeeded in pulling you after me. Just try some night." Bertie Cochrane nodded at him. "Well, it may come to that," he said; "there's nothing which you can say is impossible." Thurso laughed again.