“Very well,” said Ernest. “Now you must promise me to keep away from the saloons.”
“I’ll do it.”
“To prove your sincerity, turn around like a man, and go home.”
“When will you give me that substitute?” asked Comston, hesitating.
“Go home,” said Ernest, “and remain till I come with it.”
Comston, without another word, at once went home sober, to the surprise of his wife. He remained till his burning appetite destroyed his self-control. He could stand it no longer. Snatching up his hat he rushed off toward town. Drink he must have. As he was turning a corner, he stood face to face with Ernest.
“Do not go there, Comston,” he said. “Is this the way you obey me? You promised to put yourself in my hands.”
“But you said,” exclaimed Comston, “that you would give me a substitute, and you didn’t do it. I stayed as long as I could. Why didn’t you come, and help me, as you promised?”
“I desired to measure your will-power,” replied Ernest. “I wanted to test your manhood. I told you I would come. Why could you not believe me?”
“I was afraid you would put it off too long,” replied Comston. “I am dying.”