Part 12 (1/2)

”A man taking this feels no pain. It is like a heavy, stunning blow on the forehead--in ten seconds all is over, no gasp, no cry, but the heart ceases to beat forever; and, best of all, it leaves no trace behind it.

A little of this, such a little, in wine or coffee, would be enough. It is tasteless, colorless, and scentless, its presence is impossible to be detected.”

”But in the event of a _post-mortem_ examination?”

”By skilful a.n.a.lysts in Paris or the larger towns, there would be a chance; but in a place like this, never! Never, in fact, anywhere, unless there had been previous grounds for suspicion. Otherwise only apoplectic symptoms would be observed; and even if it was traced there comes the question, By whom was it administered?”

He stopped short, for a word rose to his lips which he did not dare utter; he raised his hands to his mouth, coughed slightly, and went on,--

”This substance is not sold by chemists; it is very rarely met with, difficult to prepare, and terribly expensive. The smallest quant.i.ty might be met with in the first-cla.s.s laboratories for scientific purposes, but it is most unlikely for any one in these parts to possess any of this drug, or even to know of its existence.”

”And yet you----”

”That is quite another matter. Years ago, when I was far away from here, it was in my power to render a great service to a distinguished chemist, and he made me a present of this combination of his skill. It would be impossible to trace this bottle; I have had it ten years, and the man who gave it to me is dead. Ten years? No, I am wrong, it is now twelve.”

”And in all these years has not this substance lost any of its destructive powers?”

”I tried it only a month ago. I threw a pinch of it into a basin of milk and gave it to a powerful mastiff. He drank the milk and in ten seconds fell stark and dead.”

”Horrible!” exclaimed Diana, covering her face with her hand, and recoiling from the tempter.

A sinister smile quivered upon the thin lips of the Counsellor.

”Why do you say horrible?” asked he; ”the dog had shown symptoms of _rabies_, and had he bitten me, I might have expired in frightful torture. Was it not fair self-defence? Sometimes, however, a man is more dangerous than a dog. A man blights the whole of my life; I strike him down openly, and the law convicts me and puts me to death; but I do not contemplate doing so, for I would suppress such a man secretly.”

Diana placed her hands on the man's mouth and stopped a further exposition of his ideas.

”Listen to me,” said she. But at this moment a heavy step was heard outside. ”It is Norbert,” gasped she.

”Impossible! It is more likely his father.”

”It is Norbert,” cried Mademoiselle de Laurebourg, and s.n.a.t.c.hing the little bottle from the Counsellor's hands, she thrust it into her bosom.

The door flew open, and Norbert appeared on the threshold. Diana and the Counsellor both uttered a shriek of terror. His livid countenance seemed to indicate that he had pa.s.sed through some terrible scene; his gait was unsteady, his clothes torn and disordered, and his face stained with blood, which had flowed from a cut over his temple. Daumon imagined that some outrage had taken place.

”You have been wounded, Marquis?” said he.

”Yes, my father struck me.”

”Can it be possible?”

”Yes, he struck me.”

Mademoiselle Diana had feared this, and she trembled with the terror of her vague conjectures as she made a step towards her lover.

”Permit me to examine your wound,” said she.

She placed both her hands at the side of his head and stood on tip-toe, the better to inspect the cut. As she did so, she shuddered; an inch lower, and the consequences might have been fatal.

”Quick,” she said, ”give me some rags and water.”