Yet he did not get drunk.
Toyner saw the detective depart by the afternoon boat, and as he walked back upon the bit of hot dusty road in the sun he reeled, not with the spirits he had taken, but with the sickening sense that his battle was lost.
Nothing seemed fair to him, nothing attractive, but to drink one more glass of spirits, and to go and make promises to Ann that would be sweet to her ear.

He knew that for him it was the gate of death.
At this point the minister met him, and jumped at once to the conclusion that he was drunk.

The minister was one of those good men who found their faith in God upon absolute want of faith in man.

His heart was better than his head, as is the case with all small-minded souls that have come into conscious contact with God, but his opinions ruled his official conduct.

"I am afraid you have been drinking, Toyner," he said reproachfully.
The first three words, "I am afraid," were enough for Bart; he was filled himself with an all-pervading fear--a fear of himself, a fear of God, a fear of the devil who would possess him again.