There was no mistake about the
matter; the long years of vile degradation, the rags, the squalor, the
scorn, of men were all to disappear. The solicitors dressed the Doctor
properly and advanced him money; he set off for Ireland to make some
necessary arrangements, and he solemnly swore that he would become a
total abstainer. At Swindon he chose to break his journey, took to
drinking, and kept on for many hours. It was long since he had had such
a chance of unlimited drink, and he greedily seized it. When he went to
bed he took a bottle with him, and in the morning he was dead.
Suffocated by alcohol, they said. He had no living soul related to him,
and I believe his money went to the Crown.
I have written this last fragment on separate sheets, and my journal is
interleaved for the first time.
The Gentleman and I became very friendly. I never tried to keep him from
drinking: it was useless. When he was sober his company was pleasant,
and I was very sorry when he mysteriously migrated, and many of our crew
missed his help badly.
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