It was quite true
what he had said in his sermon--this was a day of promise, of good
hope. He felt that within himself.
Ah! the cupboard that contained the bottle of wine had not been locked.
He walked across to it, quite steadily, perhaps a little slowly. The
bottle was there all right. How much had they used of it? He
remembered that it had been full to the base of the neck. Now? He
took it out and looked at it. It was more than half empty! He had
practically consumed half a bottle of strongly intoxicating wine!
How could he be sober? He laughed. He heard the laugh within himself,
as though he were standing by, a spectator to his own actions. Then
he knew he was drunk. He said so--to himself--aloud.
"I'm drunk."
At that instant the door of the vestry opened, and in walked Mr.
Windle, followed by the bishop. They saw him there, standing with
gently swaying movements by the cupboard, with the black bottle of
wine in his hands.
"Mr. Bishop," said the warden, "I have brought his lordship to your
assistance. I could find no one on my way home."
The Rev. Samuel put down the bottle and bowed uncertainly.
"I'm afraid it's too late," he said humbly.
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