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 he had a little cough already (here he coughed in attestation of the fact); something of this sort (lifting the black bottle) was excellent taken medicinally (he poured the physic into his tumbler); he didn’t make a practice of drinking spirits in a morning, but occasionally it really was prudent to take precautions.

“Quite prudent, and take them by all means,” urged the host.

Mr. Sykes now addressed Mr. Helstone, who stood on the hearth, his shovel-hat on his head, watching him significantly with his little keen eyes.

“You, sir, as a clergyman,” said he, “may feel it disagreeable to be present amidst scenes of hurry and flurry, and, I may say, peril: I dare say your nerves won’t stand it; you’re a man of peace, sir, but we manufacturers, living in the world and always in turmoil, get quite belligerent. Really there’s an ardour excited by the thoughts of danger that makes my heart pant. When Mrs. Sykes is afraid of the house being attacked and broke open—as she is every night—I get quite excited. I couldn’t describe to you, sir, my feelings: really, if anybody was to come—thieves or anything—I believe I should enjoy it, such is my spirit.”

The hardest of laughs, though brief and low, and by no means insulting, was the response of the Rector. Moore would have pressed upon the heroic