"'In such a night stood Dido with a willow in her hand
upon the wide sea banks and wafted her love to come again to
Carthage!'"
"Eh?" exclaimed Anthony, peering at me anxiously.
"'In such a night Medea gathered the enchanted herbs,'--and in such a
night your friend, who may never see another--takes occasion to ask a
promise of you."
"What is it, Perry?"
"That henceforth you will be drunk no more. Give me your word for
this, Anthony, and come what will, I shall not have lived in vain."
"Why, Peregrine," he mumbled, "dear fellow--not quite yourself--very
natural--quite understand--"
"On the contrary, I have never been so truly myself as now, Anthony.
Grant me this and--if death find me to-morrow morning, I shall indeed
have accomplished something worthy at last. So, Anthony--promise me!"
For a moment he stood very still, gazing up at the moon, then, all in
a moment, had caught my hand to wring it hard; but the pain of his
grip was a joy and the look on his face a comfort beyond words.
"I--I Swear it!" said he between quivering lips. "God's love, man, I'd
promise you anything to-night! And now--laugh, man, laugh--oh,
dammit!" Here he choked and was silent awhile.
"Where are you taking me, Anthony? I cannot return to the 'Soaring
Lark.'"
"Of course not. You're coming with me to 'The Bear' at Hadlow. I have
a room there. And you'll promise to be guided by me until this--this
cursed affair is over--place yourself and the affair in my hands,
Perry?"
"Most thankfully.
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