But the mere odour was enough to make a man live ten lives, he thought, smiling at his own strange exultation.

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.