"Doctor's glad he's finished his job," laughed the sexton. "No wonder. I wouldn't ha' been a patticary for no money. Thankye, sir. Hah! that's good stuff. That goes into your finger-ends; but that other stuff's best: goes right to the roots of your hair and into your toes. Rare stuff; good brandy." "Yes, you old toper," cried North; and then he seemed to drag his hand down just as he was raising it to slap the old man once more upon the shoulder. "Toper, eh, doctor? No; I like a drop now and then, just to do a man good. He was a toper--Squire Luke, yonder." "Yes," said North slowly, as he poured out some more brandy and tossed it off. "The poor fellow used to drink." "Hi--hi--hi!" chuckled Moredock. "Yes; they say he used to drink, doctor. Job's done, eh?" He stared hard at the flask, and in so peculiar a manner that North poured out some more. "Here, have another drop, old chap," he cried; "it'll warm you up." "Thankye, doctor, thankye. Hah! yes; it's good stuff. Does you good too. Makes you cheery like, and free. Why, doctor, I didn't know you could be so hearty; you keep a man like me a long ways off in general. What's the matter--not well?" "Eh?" said North, speaking strangely. "I'm not well, Moredock. I'll get out of this stifling place." "Stifling? Nay, it's not stifling; you only say so because you're done. Here, let me carry the tool bag, as you may say." The bag was heavy, for packed within it was the lamp as well as the doctor's bottles, and such instruments as he had not put in his pocket. "Looks precious queer," muttered the old man, going to and unfastening the door. "Ready, sir?" North did not answer, but followed the sexton, after a hurried glance round. "It's all right, sir; nothing left," muttered Moredock, extinguishing the candle in his lanthorn. "Why, any one would think he was growing skeered. Brandy upsets some, and does others good." The old man closed the massive door of the mausoleum, and locked the gates of the iron railing, and as he did so, North uttered a low sigh full of relief, as if with the shutting up of the grim receptacle certain troublous feelings had been dismissed, and a strange haunting sensation had gone. "S'pose you'd like me to take the bag on to my place, doctor, and bring it up to the Manor House to-night?" "Yes, I should," said North hastily; "I'll talk to you then, Moredock. I'll--" He shuddered, and in place of parting at once from the old man, he kept close to his side, and followed him into his cottage, where he sat down while the old sexton drew the thin curtain over the casement and struck a light. "Why, doctor," he said, looking wonderingly at the white, scared face before him; "you'd better go home and mix yourself a dose. You've got something coming on." "Yes," said North, with a ghastly smile; "I'm afraid I have something coming on. No--no! Nonsense! I'm tired. Not quite got over my fall. I shall be better soon."