He must no more than touch it to his lips, for
he wanted a clear head for what was coming.
"Come, Jarvo," he cried gaily--was he shouting, he wondered, and
wasn't that what he was trying to do--to shout to make some far-away
voice answer him? "Come and drink to the health of the prince. Long
may he live, long may he live--without us!"
Amory had stood with his back to the little brown man while he
poured the wine. As he turned, he lifted one cup to his lips and
Rollo gravely presented the other to Jarvo. But with a bound that
all but upset the velvet valet, the little man cleared the space
between him and Amory and struck the cup from Amory's hand.
"Adon!" he cried terribly, "adon! Do not drink--do not drink!"
The precious liquid splashed to the floor with the falling cup and
ran red about the tiles. Instantly a powerful and delightful
fragrance rose, and the thick fumes possessed the air. Amory threw
out his hands blindly, caught dizzily at Rollo, and was half dragged
by Jarvo to the open window.
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