Charlie at first protested against this, as his dinner became cold by waiting; but Tim had an oven prepared, and ordered dinner half an hour before the time fixed by his master. Each dish as brought in was, after a portion had been given to a monkey, placed in the oven, and thus half an hour was given to allow the poison to work. This was done without Charlie's knowledge, the oven being placed in the anteroom, and the dishes thence brought in, in regular order, by the body servant, whom even Tim allowed to be devoted to his master.
One day, Charlie was just sitting down to his soup, when Tim ran in.
"For the love of Heaven, Mr. Charles, don't put that stuff to your mouth. It's pisoned, or, at any rate, if it isn't, one of the other dishes is."
"Poisoned, Tim! Nonsense, man. You are always thinking of poisonings and plots."
"And it's lucky for your honor that I am," Tim said. "Jist come into the next room, and look at the monkeys."
Charlie went in. One of the little creatures was lying upon the ground, evidently in a state of great agony. The other was sitting up, rocking itself backwards and forwards, like a human being in pain.
"They look bad, poor little beasts," Charlie said; "but what has that got to do with my soup?"
"Shure, yer honor, isn't that jist what I keep the cratures for, just to give them a taste of everything yer honor has, and I claps it into the oven there to kape it warm till I've had time to see, by the monkeys, whether it's good."
"It looks very serious," Charlie said, gravely. "Do you go quietly out, Tim, call two men from the guardhouse, and seize the cook; and place one or two men as sentries over the other servants. I will go across to the rajah."
The latter, on hearing what had happened, ordered the cook to be brought before him, together with the various dishes prepared for the dinner. The man, upon being interrogated, vehemently denied all knowledge of the affair.