Part 30 (1/2)

”Are you going to Kennedy's, Julian?” asked De Vayne.

”No.”

”I wish he'd asked you.”

Julian a little wondered why he had not, but remembered, with a sigh, that there was _something_, he knew not what, between him and Kennedy.

Yet Kennedy was engaged to Violet! The thought carried him back to the beautiful memories of Grindelwald and Murrem,--perhaps of Eva Kennedy: I will not say.

As De Vayne glanced round at the men a.s.sembled at Kennedy's rooms, he felt a little vexation, and half wished he had not come. Why on earth did Kennedy see so much of these Bruces and Brogtens when he was so thoroughly unlike them? But De Vayne consoled himself with the reflection that the evening could not fail to be pleasant, as Kennedy was there; for he liked Kennedy both for Julian's sake and for his own.

Happily for him he did not know as yet that Kennedy was affianced to Violet Home.

Kennedy sat at the end of the table with a gloomy cloud on his brow.

”Here, De Vayne,” he said; ”I'm so really glad to see you at last. Sit by me--here's a chair.”

De Vayne took the proffered seat, and Bruce immediately seated himself at his left hand. At first, as the wine was pa.s.sed round, there seemed likely to be but little conversation, but suddenly some one started the subject of a ”_cause celebre_” which was then filling the papers, and Kennedy began at once to discuss it with some interest with De Vayne, who sat nearly facing him, almost with his back turned to Bruce, who did not seem particularly anxious to attract De Vayne's attention.

”What execrable wash,” said Brogten, emptying his gla.s.s.

De Vayne, surprised and disgusted at the rudeness of the remark, turned hastily round, and, while Bruce as hastily withdrew his hand, raised the wine-gla.s.s to his lips.

”Stop, stop, De Vayne,” said Bruce eagerly; ”there's a fly in your gla.s.s.”

”I see no fly,” said De Vayne, glancing at it, and immediately draining it, with the intention of saying something to smooth Kennedy's feelings, which he supposed would have been hurt by Brogten's want of common politeness.

”I think it very--” Why did his words fail, and what was the reason of that scared look with which he regarded the blank faces of the other undergraduates? And what is the meaning of that gasp, and the rapid dropping of the head upon the breast, and the deadly pallor that suddenly put out the fair colour in his cheeks? There was no fly--but, good heavens! was there death in the gla.s.s?

The whole party leapt up from their places, and gathered round him.

”What is the matter, De Vayne?” said Kennedy tenderly, as he knelt down and supported the young man in his arms. But there was no answer.

”Here D'Acres, or somebody, for heaven's sake fetch a doctor; he must have been seized with a fit.”

”_What have you been doing, Bruce_?” thundered Brogten.

”Bruce doing!” said Kennedy wildly, as he sprang to his feet. ”By the G.o.d above us, if I thought this was any of your devilish machinations, I would strike you to the earth!”

”Doing? I?” stammered Bruce. ”What do you mean?” He trembled in every limb, and his face was as pale as that of his victim; yet, though perhaps De Vayne's life depended on it, the young wretch would not say what he had done. He had meant but to put four or five drops into his gla.s.s, but De Vayne had turned round suddenly and startled him in the very act, and in the hurried agitation of the moment, his hand had slipped, and he had poured in all the contents of the bottle, with barely time to hurry it empty into his pocket, or to prevent the consequences of what he had done, when De Vayne lifted the gla.s.s to his lips.

The men all stood round De Vayne and Kennedy in a helpless crowd, and Kennedy said, ”Here, fetch a doctor, somebody, and let all go except D'Acres; so many are only in the way.”

The little group dispersed, and two of them ran off to find a doctor; but Bruce stood there still with open mouth, and a countenance as pale in its horror as that of the fainting viscount. He was anxious to tell the truth about the matter in order to avert worse consequences, and yet he dared not--the words died away upon his lips.

”Don't stand like that, Bruce,” said Brogten indignantly, ”the least you can do is to make yourself useful. Go and get the key of De Vayne's rooms from the porter's lodge. Stop, though! it will probably be in his pocket. Yes, here it is. Run and unlock his door, while we carry him to bed.”

Bruce took the key with trembling hand, and shook so violently with nervous agitation that he could hardly make his way across the court.

The others carried De Vayne to his bedroom as quickly as they could, and anxiously awaited the doctor's arrival. The livid face, with the dry foam upon the lips, filled them with alarm, but they had not any conception what to do, and fancied that De Vayne was in a fit.

It took Dr Masham a very short time to see that his patient was suffering from the influence of some poison, and when he discovered this, he cleared the room, and at once applied the proper remedies. But time had been lost already, and he was the less able to set to work at first from his complete ignorance of what had happened. He sat up all night with his patient, but was more than doubtful whether it was not too late to save his life.