well.

He stood staring stupidly at the audience, as cheer followed cheer. At
first a great dread filled his heart, only to be followed by a kind of
idiotic mirth, over which he had no control. When he spoke it seemed to
him that his voice was not his own; it sounded ludicrous in the extreme;
it was like the babble of a senseless idiot, rather than that of a
strong, self-contained man.

"Ladies and gen'l'men," he said, and felt himself rocking to and fro as
he spoke, "I'm 'bliged to you, verr-y 'bliged to you, for the kind
sen'iments you've 'spressed f'r my beau'ful bride." Here he stopped; he
felt that the people were looking towards him with wonder. He heard
derisive laughter in the hall. He tried to think of something else to
say, but his brain refused to act: the whisky had taken effect. The
scenes through which he had passed and the stifling atmosphere of the
room had mastered him. For the first time in his life he revealed the
fact that he was drunk. For several seconds he stood, staring at the
people with lack-lustre eyes, and rocking to and fro in his
helplessness.

"Ladies and gen'l'men," he hiccoughed, "I've been drinking to her health
t'day, and I b'leeve I'm lill bit drunk. Never'less, I'll 'nde'vour
to----"

He tried to speak further, but in vain; then, looking around the hall,
he broke into a senseless laugh, and fell on the floor of the platform
in a state of imbecility.

CHAPTER XIV

LEICESTER'S FAREWELL TO TAVITON

Even when this had taken place, the meeting scarcely realised the true
condition of affairs. It is true that those belonging to the opposing
side laughed derisively, but a number of Leicester's friends attributed
his condition to the grief he felt for Miss Castlemaine's illness.
Amidst the uproar and confusion of the meeting, a number of men on the
platform lifted him up and carried him into an ante-room, where he lay
back in an armchair and looked around him with drunken gravity. In the
excitement of the moment, not only his friends, but his foes, came into
the room. A local reporter for the opposition paper entered, and the
editor, eager for spicy copy, followed him. They nudged each other with
meaning glances, while whispers concerning the capital that must be made
out of the event passed between them.

"We must send for a doctor," said Mr. Smith, his election agent, who saw
as plainly as any one the true condition of affairs.

"Doctor!" laughed the local editor, "he d