"_Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its colour
in the cup, when it moveth itself aright!_"

Well, more than well, for Captain Monk, that he had not looked upon the
red wine that night!

In the midst of all this, the hall clock began to strike twelve. The
Captain rose, after filling his glass to the brim.

"Bumpers round, gentlemen. On your legs. Ready? Hooray! Here's to the
shade of the year that's gone, and may it have buried all our cares with
it! And here's good luck to the one setting-in. A happy New Year to you
all; and may we never know a moment in it worse than the present!
Three-times-three--and drain your glasses."

"But we have had the toast too soon!" called out one of the farmers,
making the discovery close after the cheers had subsided. "It wants some
minutes yet to midnight, Captain."

Captain Monk snatched out his watch--worn in those days in what was
called the fob-pocket--its chain and bunch of seals at the end hanging
down.

"By Jupiter!" he exclaimed. "Hang that butler of mine! He knew the hall
clock was too fast, and I told him to put it back. If his memory serves
him no better than this, he may ship himself off to a fresh
berth.--Hark! Listen!"

It was the church clock striking twelve. The sound reached the