‘It is my life—my very blood,’ answered Exili. ‘And my revenge—the deepest I can have—is to teach you all I know.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Simply what I have said. You may call it good for evil if you choose, but still it is my revenge. You have time and leisure before you. Make the best of both.’
Again Exili gazed at Sainte-Croix with the expression of a vulture hovering about its prey, as Gaudin advanced to the table, and, with some curiosity, handled the apparatus which was spread about it. The physician opened a drawer in the box, which was apparently filled with sand. This, however, was but on a false top, which he drew away, and discovered several small bottles, of the size of one’s finger, which he took out.
‘These small messengers have worked great events in their time,’ he said. ‘This,’ taking up one, ‘was the terror of Rome, of Verona, and Milan. I could add much to the records of the Scaliger and Borromeo families, respecting its efficacy. This,’ he added, pointing to another, ‘is so potent that a century and a half has not impaired its power. It is the foam of a dying boar, slain by poison, collected as you see, and was the scourge with which the Borgias swept away their enemies.’
‘Why is one of the phials gilt?’ asked Gaudin.
‘Because its contents are the most precious,’ returned Exili. ‘Its power baffled even the attempts at imitation of Spara and Tofana. It was discovered by a monk in a convent at Palermo, and the secret has remained with me alone.’
‘It is clear as water,’ observed Gaudin, holding it against the light.
‘And like water, without taste or odour. It aided many whose hearts clung to one another,’ he continued, watching Sainte-Croix with his eagle eyes; ‘by clearing away the obstacles that impeded their union.’
Gaudin stretched out his hand, trembling with emotion, and clutched the phial, which he regarded intently, his dilated pupil, parted lips, and short, hurried breathing, showing the conflict of passions that was going on within him. Exili passed a few more of the phials in review before him. From one he let fall a few drops upon the hearth; it hissed and boiled, and the stone remained black where it had been; into another he dipped a piece of gold, and its yellow and polished surface was changed to a dull gray by the contact.