Singularly enough, both Winter and Furneaux had intercepted that questioning glance, and had acquitted Harris simultaneously. "Are the gentlemen still in the dining-room?" inquired Winter. "Mr. Hilton is there, sir, but Mr. Robert went out some time since." "Please convey our thanks to Mr. Hilton. I'm sure we shall enjoy the wine." When Tomlinson and Harris had gone, the eyes of the two detectives met. They said nothing at first, and it may be remembered that they were reputedly most dangerous to a pursued criminal when working together silently. Winter took the decanter, poured out a small quantity into two glasses, and gave Furneaux one. Then they smelled, and tasted, and examined the wine critically. The rich red liquid might have been a poisonous decoction for the care they devoted to its analysis. Furneaux began. "I have so many sleepless nights that I recognize bromide, no matter how it is disguised," he murmured. "Comparatively harmless, though a strong dose," said Winter. "If one has to swallow twenty grains or so of potassium bromide I can not conceive any pleasanter way of taking them than mixed with a sound port." Winter filled one of the glasses four times, pouring each amount into a tumbler. Furneaux looked into a cupboard, and found an empty beer bottle, which he rinsed with water. Meanwhile Winter was fashioning a funnel out of a torn envelope, and in a few seconds the tumblerful of wine was in the bottle, and the bottle in Winter's pocket. This done, the big man lit a cigar and the little one sniffed the smoke, which was his peculiar way of enjoying the weed. "It was most thoughtful of Mr. Hilton Fenley to try and secure us a long night's uninterrupted sleep," said Winter between puffs. "But what a vitiated taste in wine he must attribute to Scotland Yard," said Furneaux bitterly. "Still, we should be grateful to him for supplying a gill of real evidence." "I may forgive him later. At present, I want to dilate his eyes with atropine, so that he may see weird shapes and be tortured of ghouls." "Poor devil! He won't need atropine for that." "Don't believe it, James. In some respects he's cold-blooded as a fish. Besides, he carries bromide tablets for his own use. He simply couldn't have arranged beforehand to dope us." "He's getting scared." "I should think so, indeed--in the Fenley sense, that is. His plot against Robert has miscarried in one essential. The rifle has not been found in the wood. Now, I'm in chastened mood, because the hour for action approaches; so I'll own up. I've been keeping something up my sleeve, just for the joy of watching you floundering 'midst deep waters. Of course, you chose the right channel. I knew you would, but it's a treat to see your elephantine struggles. For all that, it's a sheer impossibility that you should guess who put a sprag in the wheel of Hilton's chariot. Give you three tries, for a new hat." "You're desperately keen today on touching me for a new hat."