"
"Thanks," said the reporter. "Good-night." And therewith Mangan returned
to the sick-room.
He found that Lionel had forgotten all about having been startled into
silence by the tapping at the outer door. His heated brain was busy with
other bewildering possibilities now.
"Maurice--Maurice!" he said, eagerly. "It is near the time--quick,
quick!--get me the box--behind the music--on the piano--"
"Look here, Linn," said his friend, with some affectation of asperity,
"you must really calm yourself and be silent, or I shall have to go and
sit in the other room. You are straining your throat every time you
speak, and exciting yourself as well."
"Ah, and it is my last chance!" Lionel said, piteously, and with burning
eyes. "If you only knew, Maurice, you would not refuse!"
"Well, tell me quietly what you want," Mangan said.
"The box--on the top of the piano," Lionel made answer, in a low voice,
but his eyes were tremblingly anxious. "Quick, Maurice!"
Mangan went and without any difficulty found the box that held Nina's
trinkets, and returned with it.
"Open it!" Lionel said, clearly striving to conceal his excitement.
"Yes, yes--put those other things aside--yes, that is it--the two
cups--take them separate; it isn't twelve yet, is it? No, no; there will
be time; now put them on the table by the window there--yes, that is
it--now pour some wine into them--never mind what, Maurice, only be
quick!"
Well, he could not refuse this appeal; he thought that most likely the
yielding to these incoherent wishes would prove the best means of
pacifying the fevered mind; so he went into the next room and brought
back some wine, and half filled the two tiny goblets.
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