Three millions! or, The way of the world
“Give me the bottle,” repeated Dr. Lynch.
But Dick Birch took it out of her hand, and put it in his pocket.
“I think my headache is better,” said Julia. “It must have been the
odor from the vial that cured me.”
Dick looked intensely troubled; so did the doctor. Each gazed at the
other. It appeared as though the old doubts, the old suspicions, had
been suddenly revived. The ladies went up stairs, and the gentlemen
retired to the library, Dick going directly to the office.
“Mr. Birch, I hope you will pardon my apparent rudeness,” said the
doctor, as Dick joined them.
“Don’t mention it, doctor; you are very careful of your patients,”
replied Dick.
“I always intend to be. Will you allow me to examine those globules?”
“I hope you will pardon my apparent rudeness if I refuse,” replied Dick.
His answer filled Eugene with consternation, for it certainly boded a
quarrel.
“If six of those globules cured your headache yesterday, they are not
a safe medicine for a delicate female. I should like to analyze those
pellets.”
“I meant no offence, doctor,” replied Dick.
“I took none.”
“Do you really wish for the bottle?”
“I do--for the purpose I stated.”
“You shall have it. I put it in the office. I will go for it.”
Dick went to the office. On the desk lay the vial. He poured out the
globules into a paper, and refilled it from a larger vial taken from
the desk. He rolled up the pellets in the paper, and put them in his
pocket. Returning to the library, he handed the bottle to the doctor,
who soon after took his leave.
“That was a great excitement to grow out of a small affair,” said
Eugene. “I hope you will not discuss medical topics again.”
“Not so small an affair as it might have seemed,” replied Dick, as he
left the house.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CRIMINAL CARELESSNESS.
Dick Birch soon returned to the house with a small covered basket in
his hand, which he placed on the table in the library. He then brought
from the dining-room a white plate, on which he deposited one of the
homœopathic globules, and divided it into minute fragments. On one of
these particles, with the pointed end of a glass pen-holder, he dropped
an infinitesimal portion of strong sulphuric acid, a vial of which
happened to be among the chemical stores of the library. Dick was not a
practical chemist, and not a very skilful manipulator. Several times he
referred to a volume, open on the table, for information; but evidently
he was not laboring to advance the cause of science.
He watched the experiment with as much interest as the philosophers
of old watched the crucible in which the baser metals were to be
transmuted to pure gold. He was anxious and troubled. The result of his
chemical investigations was almost certain to create a storm at Pine
Hill. While he was thus engaged, Eugene entered the library.
“What are you about, Dick? What in the world are you going to do?” he
asked.
“I am trying an experiment,” replied Dick, as calmly as he could speak.
“I was not aware before that you had any special taste for chemical
science.”
“I have not.”
“What are you doing, then?”
“Do you see this plate?” said the operator, pointing to the spot on the
plate where he had deposited the acid.
“I see it.”
“I put a drop of sulphuric acid on one of the white particles. It was
of a violet-blue color; now it is a mulberry-purple: let us wait.”
“Now it is a light red,” added Eugene, when the spot again changed its
color. “Dick, this is strychnia.”
“Yes.”
“What is the experiment? What are you doing this for?”
“You see these?” continued Dick, in great agitation, as he took the
paper of globules from his pocket.
“I see them.”
“They are the globules which I offered to Julia!” gasped Dick.
“Well, what of it?”
“I put one of them on the plate, and added a minute drop of sulphuric
acid to a particle of one of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that these globules are pure strychnia--the globules that I
offered to Julia.”
“Merciful Heaven!” exclaimed Eugene, turning pale at the thought. “But
you take them yourself.”
“I never took any of these. If I had, I should have been in your new
cemetery before this time,” replied Dick, with a ghastly smile.
“Why don’t you speak, Dick, and tell me what you mean,” said Eugene,
impatiently. “Of course I don’t believe you offered those globules to
Julia, knowing them to be strychnia.”
“I endeavored to persuade her to take them.”
“You did, and Dr. Lynch protested.”
“Why did he protest? _He_ knew they were strychnia; I did not. Neither
the doctor nor myself intended to poison Julia--that is plain enough.”
“He knew, and you did not,” repeated Eugene. “How should he know?”
“Because he poured out the globules of belladonna from my vial, and
substituted globules of strychnia for my especial benefit.”
“O, no, Dick. That is too horrible!”
“The globules were belladonna yesterday; to-day they are strychnia. Who
takes the medicine from the bottle on the table? No one but myself. Did
I intend to commit suicide?”
“It is diabolical, Dick.”
“Who wanted the bottle? Who wanted to analyze the globules? Who was
pale and trembling? Who protested so violently, and even rudely,
against Julia’s taking the innocent pellets?”
“You mean that Dr. Lynch intended----”
“Intended to poison me!” added Dick, when his friend paused, unable
to give breath to the horrible thought. “That is precisely what he
intended to do.”
“He saved Julia.”
“Thank God, he did!” said Dick, fervently. “He did not mean to poison
her.”
“Why should he wish to poison you?”
“I am in his way. Why did he involve me in falsehood,--perjury?”
“I thought he had repented.”
“So did I. I would have trusted him with all I hold dear on earth an
hour ago. Hungerford, on the day that Captain Kingman died, the doctor
surprised Julia and myself in the garden. He was not pleased with the
discovery he had made.”
“But his manner towards you has not changed.”
“No, it has not. We are certainly rivals, but I have scorned to seek
any advantage over him. I have left the matter entirely in the hands of
Julia. I was willing she should decide between us.”
“Has she decided?”
“No; but, Hungerford, I think I have been gaining, while the doctor
has been losing. But never mind these things. Let us look at the naked
facts.”
“Are you sure that Dr. Lynch put the poison into the bottle?”
“Who else could have done it?”
“I don’t know; but before we accuse a man of a crime of this magnitude,
we must be sure.”
“We need not accuse him. We may not be able to prove it, though we
shall be satisfied of the fact. Nobody has been poisoned. He prevented
Julia from taking the medicine. If he had not done so,--if she had
taken the globules and died,--I should have been accused of a great
crime, or criminal carelessness. We can prove nothing.”
“Not yet.”
Eugene pulled the bell, and Parkinson answered the summons. The man was
questioned in regard to the doctor’s movements, after he was admitted
to the house. He had gone into the library; that was all Parkinson
knew. Eugene sent for the ladies.
“What are you going to do, Hungerford?” asked Dick.
“I am going to expose the villain.”
“Is that advisable?”
“The wretch shall never cross my threshold again!” replied Eugene, with
emphasis.
“It would hardly be wise to make this matter public.”
“Why not?”
“We have not sufficient evidence to convict him.”
“Perhaps not; but if there is, he shall be punished. He that would
poison one man for his own interest, would poison another. We have a
public duty to perform. We must protect the community from such a man.”
“What can we prove? Only that the vial contained globules of strychnia.
We can believe it, but there is not a particle of direct evidence to
prove that Dr. Lynch put them there. He was in the room alone; he
protested when Julia was about to take them. Public opinion would be
divided in regard to his guilt. I should be accused of attempting
to put him out of my way; he certainly would not be convicted of
the attempt to kill, and possibly would become more popular on his
persecution, as some would call it.”
“But this is placing expediency before justice.”
“You must believe in many wrongs which it is absolutely quixotic to
attempt to redress publicly. We will look for evidence; if we find it,
we will act accordingly.”
The ladies entered the library.
“Julia, Dr. Lynch is an unmitigated villain!” said Eugene.
“Not so bad as that, I hope,” replied she, startled at the announcement.
Eugene took the plate, repeated and explained the experiment which
had been performed before. Dick now prepared a solution, in which one
of the suspected globules was used, the extreme bitterness of which
was a second and most convincing proof of the strychnia nature of
the substance tested. A live frog was taken from the covered basket,
and his body and hind legs immersed in the liquid. Though none of
the poison was taken into the stomach of the animal, that which was
absorbed through the skin produced convulsions, and the experiment
resulted in death. This third test conclusively established the
poisonous nature of the pellets.
The facts in regard to the globules were duly presented, and those
who had observed the doctor’s pale face, quivering lip, and trembling
knees, realized the meaning of his energetic protest. He was convicted
by that interested group. The ladies were sick with horror. The idol
was broken; the demigod of Pine Hill was dethroned and cast out. They
were all iconoclasts at Pine Hill.
“What a terrible man he is!” said Julia, shuddering, as she walked out
of the library with Dick.
“I tremble when I think that I was pressing you to take those
globules,” said he.
“It is horrible!”
“If the doctor had not been here you might have taken them.”
“I certainly should; I was on the point of taking them as it was.”
“He adopted a very careless method of poisoning me. The vial always
lies on the table in the library, and any person might have partaken of
its contents. He deserves to be hanged for his carelessness, if not for
his crime.”
After tea Dick walked down to the Port, and paid a visit to the doctor,
whom he found in his office.
“Ah, good evening, Mr. Birch; I am happy to see you, as I always am,”
said the doctor. “Have a cigar?”
“Thank you; I don’t like your cigars. Doctor, have you that little
bottle of globules I gave you?”
“Yes, here it is,” replied the wretch, taking the vial from his pocket,
and handing it to his visitor.
“Do you really think these little pills would have harmed Julia?”
“I suppose they would not, but I was afraid of them. Miss Hungerford’s
organization is exceedingly delicate, as I have had occasion to know
when administering medicines to her.”
“But you said, yesterday, that you would not object to taking the
bottle full yourself, thereby intimating that there is no virtue
whatever in them.”
“For a strong man, like you or me, no doubt they would be harmless.”
“Suppose you try them,” suggested Dick.
“Of course I should not object to taking them,” laughed Dr. Lynch, with
one of his ghastly smiles.
“Oblige me by doing so.”
“Thank you; I have no occasion to take them.”
“You think they are harmless?”
“Certainly I do; but I may be mistaken. I was quite unwilling to have
Julia take them, without being sure what they were, and how much
medicinal virtue there might be in them. For this reason I wished to
analyze them.”
“Won’t you oblige me by taking those?” said Dick, pouring out half a
dozen of the globules into the palm of his hand.
“Excuse me, Mr. Birch; I would rather not.”
“I only wish to know whether you believe what you say.”
“In regard to what I said, I may have been mistaken. After the