Frequent were the stops he made at the brandy-bottle on the
table; but, for a time, even the brandy-fiend refused to comfort
him,--refused to excite his brain, or pour a healing balm upon his
consuming misery. Again he sunk into his chair, overcome by the torture
of his emotions, and again the gnawing worm forced him to the bottle,
until, at last, nearly stupefied by the liquor, he slumbered uneasily in
his chair. But the terrible apparition, which seldom left him when
awake, was constant in his dreams; and, just as he was about to plunge
into the awful abyss that always yawned before him, he awoke, and
staggered to the bottle again. A gleam of consciousness now visited his
inebriated mind, and he bethought himself of retiring. With a dim sense
of his usual precaution, he reeled to the secretary, and attempted to
lock the drawers. He discovered that one key was missing; but, too much
intoxicated to reason upon the circumstance, he took another draught of
brandy, and ambled towards his sleeping-room. He was too far gone to
effect a landing at the head of the stairs, and fell full-length upon
the floor when he released his hold of the banister.
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