slipping over the brink of an abyss.

With hurried step and outstretched hands, he crossed the room to snatch
a bottle of whisky from its place beside the lamp on the bureau. With
trembling eagerness, he poured a water tumbler half-full of the red
liquor. As one dying of thirst, he drank. Drawing a deep breath, and
shaking his head with a wry smile, he spoke in hoarse confidence to the
image of himself in the dingy mirror: "They nearly had me, that time."
Again, he poured, and drank.

The whisky steadied him for the moment, and with bottle and glass still
in hand, he regarded himself in the mirror with critical interest.

Had he stood erect, with the vigor that should have been his by right of
his years, the man would have measured just short of six feet; but his
shoulders--naturally well set--sagged with the weariness of excessive
physical indulgence; while the sunken chest, the emaciated limbs, and
the dejected posture of his misused body made him in appearance, at
least, a wretched weakling. His clothing--of good material and well
tailored--was disgustingly soiled and neglected;--the shoes thickly
coated with dried mud, and the once-white shirt, slovenly unfastened at
the throat, without collar or tie. The face which looked back from the
mirror to the man was, without question, the countenance of a gentleman;
but the broad forehead under the unkempt red-brown hair was furrowed
with anxiety; the unshaven cheeks were lined and sunken; the finely
shaped, sensitive mouth drooped with nervous weakness; and the blue,
well-placed eyes were bloodshot and glittering with the light of
near-insanity.

The poor creature looked at the hideous image of his ruined self as
if fascinated with the horror of that which had been somehow wrought.
Slowly, as one in a trance, he went closer, and, without moving his gaze
from the mirror, placed the bottle and tumbler upon the bureau. As if
compelled by those burning eyes that stared so fixedly at him, he leaned
forward still closer to the glass. Then, as he looked, the distorted
features twitched and worked grotesquely with uncontrollable emotions,
while the quivering lips formed words that were not even whispered. With
trembling fingers he felt the unshaven cheeks and touched the unkempt
hair questioningly. Suddenly, as if to shut out the horror of that which
he saw in the mirror, the man hid his face in his hands, and with a
sobbing, inarticulate cry sank to the floor.

Silently, wi