"I was a fule," he said to himself. "What though my face be pale, and my eyes heavy, and my pulse a little quicker than usual, am I to dee for a' that? Cowie has probably had his _morning_; and truly his appearance, now when I think of it, didna assort ill wi' that supposition. Johnny Sharpe and he are auld cronies, and they couldna part without some wet pledge o' their auld friendship. I'll wad my best horse on the point. Ha! ha! what a fule I was!" He accompanied these words by again feeling his pulse. The fear was greatly off, the pulsations had become more regular; and this confirmation enabled him to laugh off the effects the extraordinary announcements had made upon him. He proceeded onwards to Cupar, and stopped at John Sharpe's inn. The landlord was at the door. George looked at him narrowly, as he saluted him in the ordinary form. He thought the innkeeper looked also very narrowly at him, as he answered his salutation; but he was afraid to broach the question of his sickly appearance, and hurried away to get the goods packed that stood at the inn door. Having finished his work, during which he thought he saw the landlord looking strangely at him, he called for the quantity of spirits he was usually in the habit of getting, and, as he filled out the glass, asked quickly if James Cowie had been there that morning. The landlord answered that he had; but added, of his own accord, that he did not remain in the house so long as to give time for even drinking to each other. This answer produced a greater effect upon George than he was even then aware of; and it is not unlikely that this, and the impression that the landlord looked at him _strangely_, produced the very paleness that Cowie had mentioned. Be that as it may, he took up the glass of spirits and laid it down again, without almost tasting it; and his reason for this departure from his ordinary course, was, that he had already partaken sufficiently of his wife's cordial; and he had some strange misgivings about drinking ardent spirits, in case, after all, it might turn out that there was hanging about him some disease. The moment he laid down the full glass, the landlord said to him, looking in an inquiring and sympathetic manner into his face-- "George, I haena seen you do that for ten years. Are you well enough?" "What! what! eh, what!" stammered out the carrier confusedly; "do you think I'm ill, John?"