Now was the time when, as
a medicine, the alcohol, which was poison and death to his wife, would
prove restoration to him. Could he but keep up his vital powers until
the voyage was ended, all would be well with him. His life might be
prolonged for those few years he so ardently desired. He could still
watch over his wife, and protect his child during boyhood, and die in
peace--young perhaps, but having accomplished what he had set his mind
upon. But Sophy? How could she bear this unexpected temptation? He did
not suppose he could effectually conceal it from her, for of late she
had clung to him like a child, following him about humbly and meekly,
with a touching dependence upon him, striving to catch his eye and to
smile faintly when he looked at her, as a child might do who was seeking
to win forgiveness. She was very feeble and delicate still, her appetite
was as dainty as his own, and the heat oppressed her almost as much as
himself. Yet that which might save him would certainly destroy her.
Day after day the debate with Captain Scott was resumed.
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