The Man in Black: An Historical Novel of the Days of Queen AnneJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
The Man in Black: An Historical Novel of the Days of Queen Anne
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Great Britain -- History -- Anne, 1702-1714 -- Fiction
"I never sent it to her, woman!" said Mr. Short, sternly; "if you had
eyes you would see that it is not of the same color, nor has it the
same taste of that which I sent. It is different in every respect; and
if no other proof were wanting that which I sent Lady Hastings was
harmless, it would be sufficient to say, that the last vial I brought
was delivered to you yourself yesterday quite full, that Lady Hastings
ought to have taken four or five doses of that medicine between that
time and this, and----"
"Oh, yes!" exclaimed the maid, interrupting him, "she took it quite
regularly. I saw Mistress Emily give her three doses myself."
"Well, did those hurt her?" asked Mr. Short, sharply.
"I can't say they did," replied the woman, "indeed she always seemed
better a little while after taking them."
"Well that shows that this is not the same," said Mr. Short; "besides,
this bottle has never come out of my surgery. I always choose mine
perfectly clear and white, that I may be enabled to see if the
medicine is at all troubled or not. This has a green tinge, and must
have come from some common druggist's, and the stuff that it contains
must be strictly analyzed."
As he spoke, Sir Philip Hastings strode up to him, grasped his hand,
and wrung it hard, saying in a hollow husky tone, and pointing to the
bottle, "What is it you mean? What is it all about? What is that?"
"Poison! Sir Philip," replied Mr. Short, moved by the feelings of the
moment beyond all his ordinary prudence; "poison! and I very much fear
that it has been administered to your poor lady intentionally."
"Gathering herbs!--gathering herbs!" screamed Sir Philip Hastings,
like a madman; and tearing the hair out of his head, he rushed away
from the room, and locked himself into his library.
No one could tell to what his words alluded, nor did they trouble
themselves much to discover; for every one at once concluded that the
shock of his wife's sudden death, and the discovery of its terrible
cause, had driven him insane.
"Oh, do run after my master, sir," cried the maid; "he has gone into
the library, I heard him bang the door."
"Has he got any arms there?" asked Mr. Short, "there used to be
pistols at the Hall."
"No, sir, no," exclaimed one of the housemaids, "they are not there.
They are in his dressing-room out yonder."
"Well, then, I will leave him alone for the present," said the
surgeon; "here is one who demands more immediate care. Poor young
lady! If she should discover, in her present state of grief, how her
mother has died, and that her hand has been employed to produce such a
catastrophe, it will destroy either her life or her intellect."
"But who could have done it, sir?" exclaimed Lady Hastings' maid.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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