There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. ‘I’ll make it, miss. "Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs. . Reaching the panel, she was able with the aid of her lantern to find the lever at once. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. His glasses were gone. But we're neglecting the punch all this time. I can be that man, the one I know you want. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation.
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