He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. "I do," replied Thames, in the same tone; "we haven't a moment to lose. Why shouldn’t we be martyrs? There’s nothing else for most of us, anyhow. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. My father thought the latter.
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