"Yes, yes, doctor," he said, shiftily.
"Then you must keep faith with me," I cried, firmly, "and obey me, or else go to some other medical man."
"No, no, doctor, don't say that," he half whimpered. "I believe in you. I know you are clever. Don't throw me over. I will obey you implicitly."
"Then give me that brandy-flask you have in your pocket."
"No, no, doctor," he cried, "I haven't one—indeed!"
"It is not true, sir. You have partaken of brandy since I left this room."
"Brandy? brandy?" he stammered. "How—how did you know?"
"How did I know, sir?" I cried, angrily. "Do you think a medical man is a child? By the effect it has had upon you; by the odour. Why, good heavens!" I roared, as my eyes lit upon the little decanter I had left upon the table, "you have never been so mad as to drink the contents of that?"
"D—don't be angry with me, doctor," he faltered, as I stood pointing at the decanter. "I was so unhinged—by that accident—I—I was obliged. I—I wanted a glass of water—anything, but I dared not meddle with any of your bottles—'fraid of poisoning myself. But," he continued, with a peculiar little laugh, "I saw the gazogene there, and the brandy. Couldn't be any mistake about them. Capital drop of brandy, doctor, and it did pull me round so well, just as you see."
"You have never been so mad as to drink the contents of that?"
I sank back in a chair, staring at him wildly.
"He has taken it, after all," I thought. "It must be fate."
I could feel a curious sensation as bells were ringing in my ears, while I sat blankly looking at him now, wondering what the effect of my experiment would be, till he spoke again apologetically.
"It was the last drop I'll ever take, doctor."
"The truth, may be!" I said to myself; and I began to think of inquests, loss of professional reputation, a dozen troubles of the future which were coined in my busy brain.
What should I do? Give him an antidote at once? Let the drug work its way? Which?
I started up, rang the bell, and hurried to the door, ready to open it as soon as I heard steps, and then, with it held ajar, I said hastily:
"I am out to everybody, and am not to be interrupted on any pretence until I ring."
Then, closing and bolting the door, I hurried back to my seat.
"What—what's the matter, doctor?" said my patient with a startled look. "What are you going to do?"
"Study your case, sir," I said huskily, as I caught hold of his wrist, and then gazed full in his slightly dilated eyes.
"Ah! yes," he said, sinking back drowsily; "do, doctor, do. I'll never touch a drop again, but you'll give me something to take instead. Capital brandy, that. Different to any I get. So soothing."
"Shall I give him something to counter-
