“Did they accept that as sufficient excuse?” asked Esther. “Yes,” said Fred reluctantly, and biting his lips over this slip of his tongue. “Then you’ve set them a good example, and I can’t believe its effect will be lost,” said Esther. “I sincerely hope it won’t,” said Fred, very willing to seem a reformer at heart; “nobody would be gladder than I to see those fellows with wives as happy as mine seems to be.” “Then why don’t you follow it up, Fred, dear, and make sure of your hopes being realized? You can’t imagine how much happier _I_ would be if I could meet those dear women without feeling that I had to hide the joy that’s so hard to keep to myself.” The conversation continued with considerable strain to Fred’s amiability; but his sophistry was no match for his wife’s earnestness, and he was finally compelled to promise that he would make an appeal to Crayme, with whom he had a business engagement, on the arrival of Crayme’s boat, the _Excellence_. Before the whistles of the steamer were next heard, however, Esther learned something of the sufferings of would-be reformers, and found cause to wonder who was to endure most that Mrs. Crayme should have a sober husband, for Fred was alternately cross, moody, abstracted, and inattentive, and even sullenly remarked at his breakfast-table one morning that he shouldn’t be sorry if the _Excellence_ were to blow up, and leave Mrs. Crayme to find her happiness in widowhood. But no such luck befell the lady: the whistle-signals of the _Excellence_ were again heard in the river, and the nature of Fred’s business with the captain made it unadvisable for Fred to make an excuse for leaving the boat unvisited. It _did_ seem to Fred Macdonald as if everything conspired to make his task as hard as it could possibly be. Crayme was already under the influence of more liquor than was necessary to his well-being, and the boat carried as passengers a couple of men, who, though professional gamblers, Crayme found very jolly company when they were not engaged in their business calling. Besides, Captain Crayme was running against time with an opposition boat which had just been put upon the river, and he appreciated the necessity of having the boat’s bar well stocked and freely opened to whoever along the river was influential in making or marring the reputation of steamboats. Fred finally got the captain into his own room, however, and made a freight contract so absent-mindedly that the sagacious captain gained an immense advantage over him; then he acted so awkwardly, and looked so pale, that the captain suggested chills, and prescribed brandy. Fred smiled feebly, and replied, “No, thank you, Sam; brandy’s at the bottom of the trouble. I”--here Fred made a tremendous attempt to rally himself--“I want _you_ to swear off, Sam.”