whose use he had been repeatedly warned by his regular physician,
but whose warning he now cast to the winds.

He took a double dose, and waited half an hour. It seemed to
produce no effect. He then poured out a treble dose, swallowed it,
leant back upon his pillow, and waited. The miracle he anticipated
had been worked at last. It seemed as though the second draught had
not only operated with its own strength, but had kindled into power
the latent forces of the first. He put away the bottle, and rang up
Tupcombe.

Less than an hour later one of the housemaids, who of course was
quite aware that the Squire's illness was serious, was surprised to
hear a bold and decided step descending the stairs from the
direction of Mr. Dornell's room, accompanied by the humming of a
tune. She knew that the doctor had not paid a visit that morning,
and that it was too heavy to be the valet or any other man-servant.
Looking up, she saw Squire Dornell fully dressed, descending toward
her in his drab caped riding-coat and boots, with the swinging easy
movement of his prime. Her face expressed her amazement.

'What the devil beest looking at?' said the Squire. 'Did you never
see a man walk out of his house before, wench?'

Resuming his humming--which was of a defiant sort--he proceeded to
the library, rang the bell, asked if the horses were ready, and
directed them to be brought round. Ten minutes later he rode away
in the direction of Bristol, Tupcombe behind him, trembling at what
these movements might portend.