The Archduke smiled. “Dr. Fortune has hallucinations,” and he pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed his face, sat down, and drank his tea in gulps. “We’ll keep to the point, if you please.” Lomas was annoyed. “Dr. Fortune told you that two of his strychnine tablets would kill a man. He went out of the room. While he was gone you dropped half a dozen tablets into the injection prepared for your brother. I have to demand, sir, that you leave England by the next boat.” The Archduke burst out laughing. “The good Dr. Fortune! As you have seen, he has hallucinations. He hears what is not, dreams what never was. But if I were a policeman, Mr. Lomas, I should not make Dr. Fortune a witness. You become ridiculous.” “He is not the only witness, sir. One of my men was behind the curtain.” The Archduke poured himself out another cup of tea. “May I give you some more, Dr. Fortune? No? I fear you are malicious, my friend.” He laughed a little. “And you, sir. We sometimes find a policeman corrupt in our country. We do not permit him to trouble us.” “You brought a German car into England, sir,” Lomas said. “Where is that car?” “Your spies do not seem very good, Mr. Lomas. Come, sir, enough of this. I----” The Archduke started from his seat with a cry. His body was bent in a bow. A horrible grin distorted his face. He fell down and was convulsed. . . . He gasped; his pale cheeks became of a dusky blue. He writhed and lay still. . . . “So that’s that,” Reggie said. “I wondered what he wanted with half a dozen.” “What is it?” Lomas muttered. “Oh, strychnine poisoning. He’s swallowed a grain or so.” “My God! Can you do anything?” Reggie shrugged. “He’s as dead as the table.” . . . After a while, “Well! It’s a way out,” Lomas said. “But I can’t understand the fellow.” “Oh, I don’t understand it all,” Reggie admitted. “He was out to kill his brother. That meant being Emperor. But why kill him now more than before? And the Archduchess. She is straight enough, I know. But just how she was to this fellow I don’t see.”