Lamb; and the squire has some sort of absurd belief
that because the same breasts that nursed him nursed our patient, he must
befriend the fellow--and he does. Truth is, Rivers, that man's father was
a sodden drunkard but, I am told, not otherwise bad. It's a pretty sure
doom for the child. This man's body has damned his soul, and now the soul
is paying it back in kind."
"The damnation will be settled elsewhere," said Rivers gravely. "You are
pleading for him when you say he had a father who drank."
"Well, yes, yes. That is true, but I do confoundedly mistrust him. He
never remembers a kindness and never forgets the smallest injury. But
when Mrs. Penhallow puts a hand on your arm and you look at her, you just
go and do what she wants done. Oh, me too! Let's get out of this
unreasonable sun and see this fellow."
Billy was chasing blue-bottle flies on the window panes, and the patient
in bed was lying still, flushed, with red eyes. He was slowly recovering
from an attack of delirium tremens and reassembling his scattered wits.
"Well," said McGregor, "better, I see. Bugs gone?"
"Yes, sir; but if I had a little, just a nip of whisky to taper off on,
I'd be all right."
"Not a drop, Peter."
"I'll die if I don't get it."
"Then die sober."
Peter made no reply.
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