“We’ve saved you that trouble,” replied Cuddy, “for we finished it ourselves.”
“The deuce you did!” exclaimed Sir Moses, adding, “and were you sick?”
“Squeamish,” replied Cuddy—“Squeamish; not so bad as Mr. Pringle.”
“But bad enough to want some brandy, I suppose,” observed the Baronet, now entering the library.
“Quite so,” said Cuddy—“quite.”
“Why didn’t you get some?—why didn’t you get some?” asked the Baronet, moving towards the bell.
“Because Bankhead has none out,” replied Mr. Cuddy, before Sir Moses rang.
“None out!” retorted Sir Moses—“none out!—what! have you finished that too!”
“Somebody has, it seems,” replied Cuddy, quite innocently.
“Well, then, I’ll tell you what you must do—I’ll tell you what you must do,” continued the Baronet, lighting a little red taper, and feeling in his pocket for the keys—“you must go into the cellar yourself and get some—go into the cellar yourself and get some;” so saying, Sir Moses handed Cuddy the candle and keys, saying, “shelf above the left hand bin behind the door,” adding, “you know it—you know it.”