the memory of the past swept over me, the good comradeship, the happy, adventurous days—all that we had suffered and worked for and won. That it should have come to this—to insults and abuse! Suddenly I was sobbing—sobbing in loud, gulping, uncontrollable sobs which refused to be concealed. My companions looked at me in surprise. I covered my face with my hands.
"It's all right," said I. "Only—only it is such a pity!"
"You're ill, young fellah, that's what's amiss with you," said Lord John. "I thought you were queer from the first."
"Your habits, sir, have not mended in these three years," said Summerlee, shaking his head. "I also did not fail to observe your strange manner the moment we met. You need not waste your sympathy. Lord John. These tears are purely alcoholic. The man has been drinking. By the way. Lord John, I called you a coxcomb just now, which
