dared to make a confidante of his wife in such an awful dilemma. Then I pretended to have dropped my table-napkin behind my chair, and rising to seek it, stole round behind my uncle, and whispered in his ear:
“ ‘What will you give me for a dozen of port now, uncle?’
“ ‘Bah!’ he said, ‘I’m at the gratings; don’t torture me.’
“ ‘I’m in earnest, uncle.’
“He looked round at me with a sudden flash of bewildered hope in his eye. In the last agony he was capable of believing in a miracle. But he made me no reply. He only stared.
“ ‘Will you give me Kate? I want Kate,’ I whispered.
“ ‘I will, my boy. That is, if she’ll have you. That is, I mean to say, if you produce the true tawny.’
“ ‘Of course, uncle; honour bright—as port in a storm,’ I answered, trembling in my shoes and everything else I had on, for I was not more than three parts confident in the result.
“The gentlemen beside Kate happening at the moment to be occupied, each with the lady on his other side, I went behind her, and whispered to her as I had whispered to my uncle, though not exactly in the same terms. Perhaps I had got a little courage from the champagne I had drunk; perhaps the presence of the company gave me a kind of mesmeric strength; perhaps the excitement of the whole venture kept me up; perhaps Kate herself gave me courage, like a goddess of old, in some way I did not understand. At all events I said to her:
“ ‘Kate,’—we had got so far even then—‘my uncle hasn’t another bottle of port in his cellar. Consider what a state General Fortescue will be in soon. He’ll be tipsy for want of it. Will you come and help me to find a bottle or two?’