Having shut his eyes as if he were satisfied, or as if he were too weak to pursue the enquiry any further, the doctor felt his pulse again, and remarked: "He will be all right in a short time." He then gave them instructions as to how they should proceed in case of contingencies, and turning to Morris said: "I believe you have signed the pledge more than once, and a few moments ago you remarked you would never drink again. Did you mean it?" "I did, and, God helping me, liquor shall never enter my lips again." "Here is a pledge," and the doctor produced one. "Will you sign it? I always carry one with me to use on such occasions as this." "I will, sir. And I am thankful to you for your interest in me. Pray for me, that I may receive strength to keep it." Morris signed the pledge with trembling hand, and no sooner had he done so than his wife, throwing her arms around his neck, kissed him. "Thank God," she said, and then, casting her eyes heavenward, she prayed: "O, my Father, aid him to keep his promise." "You kept sober," said the doctor, "for several weeks after the Act came in force, and then you were, with several others, tempted to drink." "Yes," said Morris, "I was coaxed to drink by the sheriff, though I was weak and foolish to listen to him." "It was a vile conspiracy," continued the doctor, indignantly, "and I am certain that some of those in the county who are now infamously degrading the most important offices in the gift of the Crown are among the conspirators. I am personally acquainted with numbers who were seduced to their ruin by this devilish conspiracy, entailing an amount of misery that it is impossible to estimate." Before the doctor had finished speaking, Jim, who had been sent to have a prescription filled out, came running in with a look of horror on his face. "They are looking for you, doctor," he said, "to go down to Flatt's. They say Tom has murdered his wife." "Another victim," said the doctor sententiously, and then he hurried away. CHAPTER XXXIV. TOM FLATT'S HUT--A DESCRIPTION OF THE SCENE IN WHICH HE MURDERS HIS WIFE. When Flatt arrived at the hovel where his wife and children burrowed (for they could scarcely be said to live) he found them in the most abject misery. But I will ask my reader to accompany me to it. Imagine a log shanty, twelve by sixteen in dimensions, roofed by troughs, or what appeared to be halves of hollow logs. The back of the shanty on the outside was not originally more than six feet high; but as the logs which formed the sides, and ends had so rotted that by their own weight they had settled considerably, it was now much lower. The shanty contained two windows, which were ornamented by having two or three old hats used as substitutes for panes of glass, and the panes which were not broken were so cracked and splintered that they were in eminent peril of being blown out at every violent gust of wind.