"Sherry and Madeira," he said. "There is also a cold pie in the
larder, if you care for it."

"A biscuit will serve," I replied. "To tell the truth, I'm more for
the bucket than the manger, as the grooms say; and, by your leave, the
brandy you were testing just now is more to my mind than wine."

"There is no water handy."

"There was plenty out of doors to last me with this bottle."

I pulled over a chair, and laid my pistol on the table, and held out
the glass for him to fill. Having done so, he helped himself to a
glass and a chair, and sat down facing me.

"I was talking, just now, of my late butler," he began, with a sip
at his brandy. "Has it struck you that, when confronted with moral
delinquency, I am apt to let my indignation get the better of me?"

"Not at all," I answered heartily, refilling my glass.

It appeared that another reply would have pleased him better.

"H'm. I was hoping that, perhaps, I had visited his offence too
strongly. As a clergyman, you see, I was bound to be severe; but upon
my word, sir, since he went I have felt like a man who has lost a
limb."

He drummed with his fingers on the cloth for a few moments, and went