'What, this?' asked Villiers, indicating the flask, as he slowly
unscrewed the top.

'No; the day, my boy, the day. Ha! ha! ha!' said the lively
stranger, going off into fits of laughter, which vibrated like small
thunder amid the high rocks surrounding them. 'Good line for a
comedy, I think. Ha! ha!--gad, I'll make a note of it,' and diving
into one of the pockets of his coat, he produced therefrom an old
letter, on the back of which he inscribed the witticism with the
stump of a pencil.

Meanwhile Villiers, thinking the flask contained brandy, or at least
whisky, took a long drink of it, but found to his horror it was
merely a weak solution of sherry and water.

'Oh, my poor stomach,' he gasped, taking the flask from his lips.

'Colic?' inquired the stranger with a pleasant smile, as he put back
the letter and pencil, 'hot water fomentations are what you need.
Wonderful cure. Will bring you to life again though you were at your
last gasp. Ha!' struck with a sudden idea, '"His Last Gasp", good
title for a melodrama--mustn't forget that,' and out came the letter
and the pencil again.

Mr Villiers explained in a somewhat gruff tone that it was not
colic, but that his medical attendant allowed him to drink nothing
but whisky.

'To be taken twenty times a day, I presume,' observed the stranger,
with a wink; 'no offence meant, sir,' as Villiers showed a