I was outvoted, and had to give up my idea of a rustic meal in the open
air.

It was not a very pleasant dinner. Masham, despite Hawkesbury's
protests, persisted in interlarding it with his offensive stories, and
Whipcord, who was taking very decided measures to excite his spirits,
chimed in with his horsey slang, not unmixed with profanity.

"How are you getting on, Batchelor?" said the former presently to me.
"Don't be afraid of that bottle, man, it's only whisky!"

"Don't you believe him; it's gin," laughed Whipcord.

"I thought you said it was brandy," said Hawkesbury.

"There you are!" said Masham. "One says one thing, one another, and one
another. Now I tell you what, Batchelor shall be umpire, and we'll each
put five shillings on it, eh? What do you say to that?"

"I'd rather not bet," replied Hawkesbury, "but I'd like to know what
Batchelor says it is."

"I'll go half-sovs. with you on it," said Whipcord.

"Done with you!" said Masham; "but Hawkesbury must go too, for if it's
brandy we both lose."

"I'd rather not bet," said Hawkesbury, "but if it will spoil your fun if
I don't I'll join."

"Thanks. Now, Batchelor, fill up, old toper, and give us your verdict."

"I really am no judge of spirits," said I. "Innocent babe," said
Masham, "how well he does it! But he doesn't seem to know the rule in
these cases," added he, winking at the other two. "What rule?" I
asked.

"Why, about hanging back. Half a tumbler for every twenty seconds,
isn't that it, Whipcord?"

"I thought it was a whole tumbler!"

"Ah, wouldn't you take your time to decide, eh? Come now," said Masham,
taking out his watch, "we'll start now."

"Hold hard," said Whipcord. "Surely we are to have glasses too, to see
if he guesses right."

"Very well, fill all round. Now, Batchelor."

"I really can't do it," I said, faintly. "Five seconds gone!" bawled
Masham, laughing. "Please, don't be so foolish," I cried, getting
alarmed. "Hawkesbury, please stop them!"

"Ten seconds gone, eleven, twelve!"

"I tell you, I--"

"Seventeen, eighteen," said Masham, rising and reaching out his arm for
the bottle.

There was no help for it. I seized my glass and gulped down its
contents. It made me cough and sputter, and my eyes watered, greatly to
the amusement of my persecutors.

"What is it?" they all cried.

I could scarcely speak for anger and the burning in my throat.

"It's a shame!" I began.

"That's not what