Pence was about to break forth into a denunciation of Huxham's wickedness, but a timely recollection of the captain's last words--that his story would not be believed--made him pause. After all, Huxham was well known as a decent man and an open-handed friend to one and all, so there was nothing to be gained by telling a truth which would certainly be scoffed at. The preacher changed his mind in one swift instant, and replied nervously to Mrs. Coppersley's inquiry. "I have been on the quarter-deck, and it made me dizzy. I am not accustomed to----" "Drat that brother of mine," interrupted Mrs. Coppersley angrily, "he got me up there once, and I thought I'd never come down. Here, Mr. Pence, you hold up while I get you a sup of rum." "No, no! Strong drink leads us into desperate ways," protested the preacher. But Mrs. Coppersley was gone, and had returned before he could make up his mind to fly temptation. Silas was not used to alcohol, but the shock he had sustained in learning so much of Huxham's true nature prevented his exercising his usual self-control. With his highly strung nerves he was half-hysterical, and so, when forced by kindly Mrs. Coppersley, readily drank half a tumbler of rum slightly diluted with water. "Drink it all, there's a good soul," entreated the housekeeper, forcing the glass to his lips. "No!" He pushed it away. "I feel better already!" and he did, for the strong spirit brought colour to his cheek and new strength to his limbs. He stood up in a few minutes, quite himself, and indeed more than himself, since the rum put into him more courage than came by nature. "Wine maketh glad the heart of man," said Silas, in excuse for his unusual indulgence. "Rum isn't wine," said Mrs. Coppersley, with a jolly laugh, "it's something much better, Mr. Pence. Now you go home and lie down." "Oh, no! I feel as though I could charge an army," said Pence valiantly. "Then wait in the study." She indicated the panelled room with a jerk of her head. "Jabez will be down from his quarter-deck soon." "No." Pence shivered, in spite of the rum, at the thought of again having to face his tempter. "I must go now. My presence is required in the village." "Then you can take a message for me to Mr. Vand," said Mrs. Coppersley, with a slight accession of colour to her already florid face. "Say that I am coming to Marshely about seven o'clock, and will call at the shop."