"I thank you, Major Warfield. I will take the seat but not the negus, if you please, to-night."
"Not the negus? Oh, come now, you are joking. Why, it will keep you from catching cold and be a most comfortable nightcap, disposing you to sleep and sweat like a baby. Of course, you spend the night with us?"
"I thank you, no. I must take the road again in a few minutes."
"Take the road again to-night! Why, man alive! it is midnight, and the snow driving like all Lapland!"
"Sir, I am sorry to refuse your proffered hospitality and leave your comfortable roof to-night, and sorrier still to have to take you with me," said the pastor, gravely.
"Take me with you! No, no, my good sir!--no, no, that is too good a joke--ha! ha!"
"Sir, I fear that you will find it a very serious one. Your servant told you that my errand was one of imminent urgency?"
"Yes; something like life and death----"
"Exactly; down in the cabin near the Punch Bowl there is an old woman dying----"
"There! I knew it! I was just saying there might be an old woman dying! But, my dear sir, what's that to me? What can I do?"
"Humanity, sir, would prompt you."
"But, my dear sir, how can I help her? I am not a physician to prescribe----"
"She is far past a physician's help."
"Nor am I a priest to hear her confession----"
"Her confession God has already received."
"Well, and I'm not a lawyer to draw up her will."
"No, sir; but you are recently appointed one of the justices of the peace for Alleghany."
"Yes. Well, what of that? That does not comprise the duty of getting up out of my warm bed and going through a snow-storm to see an old woman expire."
"I regret to inconvenience you, sir; but in this instance your duty demands your attendance at the bedside of this dying woman----"
"I tell you I can't go, and I won't! Anything in reason I'll do. Anything I can send she shall have. Here, Wool, look in my breeches pocket and take out my purse and hand it. And then go and wake up Mrs. Condiment, and ask her to fill a large basket full of everything a poor old dying woman might want, and you shall carry it."
"Spare your pains, sir. The poor woman is already past all earthly, selfish wants. She only asks your presence at her dying bed."