Bruce took the key with trembling hand, and shook so violently with nervous agitation that he could hardly make his way across the court. The others carried De Vayne to his bedroom as quickly as they could, and anxiously awaited the doctor’s arrival. The livid face, with the dry foam upon the lips, filled them with alarm, but they had not any conception what to do, and fancied that De Vayne was in a fit.
It took Dr Masham a very short time to see that his patient was suffering from the influence of some poison, and when he discovered this, he cleared the room, and at once applied the proper remedies. But time had been lost already, and he was the less able to set to work at first from his complete ignorance of what had happened. He sat up all night with his patient, but was more than doubtful whether it was not too late to save his life.
The news that De Vayne had been seized with a fit at Kennedy’s rooms soon changed into a darker rumour. Men had not forgotten the affair of Hazlet, and they suspected that some foul play had been practised on one whom all who knew him loved, and whom all, though personally unacquainted with him, heartily respected. That this was really the fact soon ceased to be a secret; but who was guilty, and what had been the manner or motives of the crime remained unknown, and this uncertainty left room for the wildest surmises.
The dons were not slow to hear of what had happened, and they regarded the matter in so serious a light, that they summoned a Seniority for its immediate investigation. Kennedy was obviously the first person of whom to make inquiries, and he told them exactly what had occurred, viz, that De Vayne after drinking a single glass of wine, fell back in his chair in the condition wherein he still continued. “Was anything the matter with the wine, Mr Kennedy?” asked Mr Norton, who, as one of the tutors, had a seat on the board.
“Nothing, sir; it was the same which we were all drinking.”
“And without any bad effects?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But, Mr Kennedy, there seems strong reason to believe that some one drugged Lord De Vayne’s wine. Were you privy to any such plan?”
“No, sir—not exactly,” said Kennedy slowly, and with hesitation.
“Really, sir,” said the Master of Saint Werner’s, “such an answer is grossly to your discredit. Favour us by being more explicit; what do you mean by ‘not exactly’?”