The
minutes seemed like hours; our limbs were listless, as if we had been
beaten into helplessness. So passed one doleful hour. I mentioned
breakfast, and Bob shuddered, while Coney rushed from the room. What a
pleasant thing is a jovial night!
"Let's see if we can manage some champagne," said Darbishire, and the
"merry" three were soon mournfully gazing on a costly magnum. Sip by sip
we contrived to drink a glass each; then the false thirst woke, the
nausea departed, and we were started again for the day.
I persisted in taking violent exercise, but Darbishire seemed to have
lost all his muscular aptitudes, and although I implored him to exert
himself, he sank into a lethargy that was only varied by mad fits,
during which he performed the freaks of a lunatic. After the sixth day's
drinking I proposed to go away. Bob looked queerly at me, and said in a
whisper, "Don't you try it on! See that!" and he showed me a little
Derringer. I laughed; but I was not really amused. You always notice
that, when a man is about to go wrong, he thinks of killing those whom
he likes best.
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