The nurse had regained her self-control and even smiled.
“Have you been asleep this morning?” she asked, as though the medicine no longer interested her.
“Just woke up,” said Zaidos. “I had a fine nap.”
“That’s good,” said the nurse and walked away, taking the bottle in her hand.
But five minutes later, when she reported to the doctor, her manner was not so calm.
“What do you think?” she cried, closing the door of the tiny laboratory where he was working with an assistant. “What can this mean? This bottle was on young Zaidos’ table instead of the medicine I left there!”
The doctor scanned the label.
“Bichloride of mercury,” he said. “Why, that’s queer!” He pondered. “What do you make of it?”
“I can’t make a guess even,” said the nurse. “There is no one out there who is delirious, and Zaidos could not get up on that broken leg in his sleep, if he wanted to. If it was not such a crazy idea, I should say someone had a reason for getting rid of Zaidos, but he is very popular, and his cousin thinks the world of him.”
The incident was mysterious as well as serious. They discussed it and made guesses which flew wide of the mark. The doctor quietly ordered a change of medicine for Zaidos, and removing the bottles on his table, gave the nurse instructions to give him the doses herself. She did so, without rousing any suspicion in Zaidos’ open and confident mind, but Velo Kupenol noticed the change.