"Sir," responded Mr. Seabright, in sepulchral tones.
"I think your wife belongs to that man Marshall's church," remarked the man.
Mr. Seabright nodded assent.
"Tell her that her pastor will hardly live till morning and that he would like to see her," said the man.
Mr. Seabright had now found courage to pull the cover down from over the other eye, and it now rested on his nose.
"Did you hear me," said the man, rather sharply.
"You will please excuse my boldness," said Mr. Seabright, tremblingly, "but you have a totally wrong conception of my disposition I fear, Mr. Stranger. You can get the full benefit of my services with only the butt end of that thing pointing my way, instead of the occasional shifting of the muzzle in my direction."
The stranger smiled coldly and said, "Tell her what I said."
Mr. Seabright now got out of bed and proceeded to the door opening from his room into that of his wife.
"Arabelle!" called Mr. Seabright through the partly opened door.