from the Atlantic.

Coming from the genial warmth of Mr. Souza's parlour into this, the
evaporation of the wine within him was quickened, its fumes mounted
now overwhelmingly to his brain, and from comfortably intoxicated
that he had been hitherto, the lieutenant now became furiously drunk;
and the transition was a very rapid one. It was now that he looked
upon the business he had in hand in the light of a crusade; a sort
of religious fanaticism began to actuate him.

The souls of these wretched monks must be saved; the temptation to
self-indulgence, which spelt perdition for them, must be removed
from their midst. It was a Christian duty. He no longer though of
buying the wine and paying for it. His one aim ow was to obtain
possession of it not merely a part of it, but all of it - and carry
it off, thereby accomplishing two equally praiseworthy ends: to
rescue a conventful of monks from damnation, and to regale the
much-enduring, half-starved campaigners of the Agueda.

Thus reasoned Mr. Butler with admirable, if drunken, logic. And
reasoning thus he led the way over the bridge, and kept straight on
when he had crossed it, much to the dismay of Sergeant Flanagan,
who, perceiving the lieutenant's condition, conceived that he was
missing his way. This the sergeant ventured to point out, reminding
his officer that they had come by the road along the river.

"So we did," said Butler shortly. "Bu' we go back by way of Tavora."

They had no guide. The one who had conducted them to Regoa had
returned with O'Rourke, and although Souza had urged upon the