It stands to reason. I'm all broken up and run down. Not much left
of me, you see. Bad liquor is killing me, and I can't stop. If I do,
I shall die.' God help me!"
His voice shook now, and the muscles of his face quivered.
"Some good wine--some pure wine, Mr. Elliott!" he went on, his voice
rising and his manner becoming more excited. "It's all over with me
unless I can get pure wine. Save me, Mr. Elliott, save me, for God's
sake!"
The miserable man held out his hands imploringly. There was wild
look in his face. He was trembling from head to foot.
"One glass of pure wine, Mr. Elliott--just one glass." Thus he kept
on pleading for the stimulant his insatiable appetite was craving.
"I'm a drowning man. The floods are about me. I am sinking in dark
waters. And you can save me if you will!"
Seeing denial still on the clergyman's face, Mr. Ridley's manner
changed, becoming angry and violent.
"You will not?" he cried, starting from the chair in which he had
been sitting and advancing toward Mr. Elliott.
"I cannot. I dare not. You have been drinking too much already,"
replied the clergyman, stepping back as Mr. Ridley came forward
until he reached the bell-rope, which he jerked violently. The door
of his study opened instantly. His servant, not, liking the
visitor's appearance, had remained in the hall outside and came in
the moment he heard the bell. On seeing him enter, Mr.
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