"Why, that was real smart of you!" said Cochrane. The man had brought the sugar and water and glasses, and as soon as he had left the room Thurso produced his package, and tore its coverings off. What was going to happen Maud did not know, but she trusted Cochrane, and she trusted the Power in obedience to which she felt sure he was acting. Thurso trusted him too, it appeared, for after he had poured some half of the bottle into his own glass, he passed it across to Cochrane. Then he dropped a lump of sugar into his glass, and poured in a little hot water, stirring it up, and stabbing with his spoon at the lump. "I wouldn't take much if I were you," he said. "Ah, to leave more for you to-morrow morning," said Cochrane. "Greedy fellow! And look at your ration! Why, you've taken half the bottle!" Thurso gave that dreadful giggle again. "I know," he said. "It's a regular bumper this time, isn't it? I'm going to drink to our first merry meeting. Damn the sugar! it melts so slowly." A moment's doubt and fear swept over Maud like some huge combing breaker. "Thurso, Thurso!" she cried. "Mr. Cochrane!" He still held the bottle in his hand. "Ah, reverse your fear quickly," he said. But Thurso seemed not to hear her. The sugar was nearly dissolved now, and he was stabbing at the few remaining crystals. "What a nice fire!" he said. "I shall sit by it all the evening, and not come to dinner, and enjoy four or five hours of Paradise. Time goes so slowly, too, in Paradise; it seems an eternity. I shouldn't take more than a tea-spoonful if I were you," he said to Cochrane, who was just tilting the bottle. "That's what I began with." "Ah, was it?" said Cochrane. "Then, see here." He poured the whole of the rest of the bottle into the glass. Then, without troubling about hot water or sugar, he put it to his mouth and drank it off. "Can't say I like your brand," he said, putting the glass down. The sugar was melted in Thurso's glass, and he had withdrawn the spoon. The first sip was imminent now, that first sip of so many. Then the struggle began; he longed for that first sip, but as he saw what Cochrane had done his hands trembled; they would not raise the glass to his mouth. But the stammering had gone, and the giggling laugh was dumb. "Why, it will kill you! it will kill you!" he screamed. "You don't know what you have done! It's nearly pure laudanum. You must take an emetic at once. Here, this hot water. Ah, it's too hot! But go quick. You'll be dead in a couple of hours. Maud, don't sit there!" he cried. "Send for a doctor! Send for somebody quick!" He put his own glass down, and sprang up from his chair with the helpless agitation of a man who has no control of himself. But Maud did not move. Cochrane looked at her once, and she smiled at him, and he seemed satisfied, as if he had been waiting for that, waiting for the assurance of her confidence that the smile gave. Then he turned to Thurso.