"Laudanum!" said Wiggins. "A whole pint of it."
"Enough to kill a team of horses!" said Tom Seddon.
"This is not laudanum," said the doctor, with a look of intense disgust at his patient.
"What is it?" asked Wiggins.
"Brandy," said the doctor.
"Just as I said," exclaimed the landlord. "I can tell a drunken man from a dead man any day."
The diagnosis of the landlord was correct. The wily apothecary had given the despairing swain a bottle of brandy, and instead of romantically dying for love, he had become stupidly drunk.
CHAPTER XIII.
In the morning Botts, who had been so rudely accosted and so roughly handled by the landlord in the apartment of the unfortunate Long Green Boy, was in close and earnest consultation with Wiggins. The question for solution was whether the landlord was a gentleman, and as such amenable for the insult offered to Botts by his language and the assault on his person. The Thirty-nine Articles of the Code of Honor were carefully consulted, and the question was finally determined in the affirmative. The social status of the offender being settled, Wiggins undertook to carry a cartel from Botts to Boniface.