North did not hesitate, but drank the dram of strong brandy at a gulp.
“That puts life into you, don’t it, doctor, eh? Better now?”
“Hah!” sighed North, returning the glass, and leaning back in the chair. “No, no; that will do.”
The stimulus did more than carry off the sensation of fainting, it gave back the power to think consistently; and North sat up as if considering what he should do next.
“He’s knocked you about a bit, doctor,” said Moredock, breaking in upon his musings.
“Eh? Yes; we had a sharp struggle,” said North, starting.
“Sent him home like a cur with his tail between his legs, haven’t you, doctor?”
North shuddered and caught Moredock’s arm.
“How did you know that—that he was there?”
“Oh, I foun’ it out!” said the old man evasively. “I’ve seen ends of cigars there and ashes on the floor; and I thought at first that parson smoked, and told him of it.”