“Yes, of course, the mine was flooded; but did I go to Mr Penwynn’s?”
“Yes, sir, in a state such as I had never believed I could see you, sir—full of drink.”
“What?”
“I suppose you had been taking it to make you forget the trouble, sir. That drop I gave you at the furnace—”
“Ah, to be sure,” cried Geoffrey, who saw more clearly now—“that brandy.”
“Wouldn’t have hurt a child, sir,” said the miner, bitterly.
“But it sent my two men to sleep. What time is it now—three—four?” he cried, gazing at the window.
“It’s ten o’clock, sir, and you’ve been since two yesterday sleeping it off.”
“Then that stuff was drugged,” cried Geoffrey. “Here, Pengelly, may I wash here? I must go up to An Morlock directly.”
There was a knocking on the door below, and Pengelly descended, while Trethick tried to clear his head by drinking copiously of the cold water, and then bathing his face and head.