quid into a glass.

"Is it whisky, docker? No, thank you. I'm ple'ged t'totlerr. I never
tush cursed stuff."

"Drink!" said the doctor sternly.

"Anything 'blige you, doctor," he said, as he swallowed the draught. A
few minutes later he was in bed asleep, while the whole town was talking
eagerly about what had taken place that night. Many there were, in spite
of what they had seen, who maintained that his mind had been unhinged by
grief, and that instead of turning their backs upon him, they must
support him all the more loyally; but in the main it was believed that
the opposition editor's dictum was correct, and that he had insulted
them by appearing on the platform in a state of intoxication. As the
night went on, reports were afloat to the effect that Miss Castlemaine
was not ill at all, but that it was a report which originated with
Leicester himself, the real truth being that Miss Castlemaine, having
at the last moment discovered him to be a drunkard, had ordered him from
her home. Before the town had gone to sleep, Leicester was declared to
be guilty of every sin in the calendar, and that they must be very
thankful that they had found out his real character. Mr. Smith and his
staff were in despair, while the agent of the other candidate was
jubilant. Their success was now assured, they felt.

Hour after hour Leicester slept. The doctor's potion, together with the
whisky fumes, had to be slept off, and he lay like a log, breathing
heavily. More than once the proprietor of the hotel came and looked at
him. As he looked, he wondered. Even in his drunken sleep there was
something noble about him. The face, all discoloured as it was,
suggested a strong, masterful man. It seemed impossible that the
self-restrained man who came to his house a few hours before, and had
ordered nothing but soda-water from the waiter, could have fallen on the
platform in drunken helplessness. Nevertheless, there could be no doubt
about it. As he listened to his maudlin mutterings there could be but
one opinion about his condition.

When Leicester woke daylight had come, but although he felt that
something terrible had happened, he did not fully realise what had taken
place. His mouth was dry and parched, and his head throbbed terribly. He
had a vague remembrance of having acted strangely, but he could not
piece together the scattered thoughts which floated through his brain.

"What is it?" he asked, after vainly thinking. "Am I still