5

THE PROMISE

CHAPTER I

THE PACE

Young Carmody awoke to the realization of another day.

The sun of mid-forenoon cast a golden rhombus on the thick carpet, and
through the open windows the autumnal air, stirred by just the
suspicion of a breeze, was wafted deliciously cool against his burning
cheeks and throbbing temples.

He gazed about the familiar confines of the room in puffy-eyed
stupidity.

There was a burning thirst at his throat, and he moistened his dry lips
with a bitter-coated tongue. His mouth was lined with a brown slime of
dead liquor, which nauseated him and sent the dull ache to his head in
great throbbing waves.

Upon a beautifully done mahogany table near the door stood a silver
pitcher filled to the brim with clear, cold ice-water. It seemed miles
away, and, despite the horrible thirst that gnawed at his throat, he
lay for many minutes in dull contemplation of its burnished coolness.

The sodden condition of his imagination distorted his sense of
proportion. The journey across the room loomed large in the scheme of
things. It was a move of moment, to be undertaken not lightly, but
after due and proper deliberation.

He threw off the covers and placed a tentative foot upon the floor.

A groan escaped him as his right hand brushed the counterpane. Gingerly
he brought the member within range of his vision--it was swollen to the
wrist and smeared with dried blood, which had oozed from an ugly split
in the tight-drawn skin. Slowly he worked the fingers and frowned--more
in perplexity than distress--at the sharp pain of the stiffened
knuckles.

He crossed to the table and, springing the silver catch of a tiny door,
cunningly empaneled in the wall, selected from the cellaret a
long-necked, cut-glass decanter, from which he poured a liberal drink.
The sight of it sickened him, and for an instant he stood contemplating
the little beads that rushed upward and ranged themselves in a
sparkling semicircle along the curve of the liquor-line.

"The hair of the dog is good for the bite," he muttered, and with an
effort closed his eyes and conveyed the stuff jerkily to his lips. Part
of the contents spilled over his fingers and splashed upon the polished
table-top. As the diffused odor reached his nostrils a wave of nausea
swept over him. With a shudder he drained the glass at a gulp and
groped blindly for the water-pitcher, from which he greedily swallowed
great quantities of ice-w