Young Tresslyn was drinking, but he was not carousing.

He drank as unhappy men drink, not as the happy ones do.

He drank alone.
For a few minutes Simmy watched this dark sentinel, and reflected.

What was he doing over there?
What was he up to?
Was he waiting for Lutie to come forth from the fortified place?
Was there murder and self-murder in the heart of this unhappy boy?
Simmy was a little man but he was no coward.

He did not hesitate long.