The Princess opened a small cabinet, and produced a tiny stoppered bottle.
“By swallowing this medicine,” she answered. “I have had it specially prepared from a recipe given me ten years ago at a time when I thought of resorting to the same contrivance to escape from my taskmaster.”
I took the bottle in my hand, and examined it carefully. It bore no label, and the contents appeared perfectly colorless.
“In five minutes after you have swallowed the contents of the bottle,” Sophia explained, “you will begin to turn cold, at first in the feet and hands. As the cold mounts to the brain you will gradually lose consciousness, and become rigid. You will look as pale as if you were actually dead, and your heart will cease to beat.”
“And how long will this stupor last?”
“About twenty-four hours, more or less, according to your constitution.”
I looked carefully and steadily into her eyes. She flushed and trembled violently, but did not quail.
“What does it taste like?” I asked.
“It is a little bitter.”