“Armed?” said North slowly.
“Yes. Why, you might have sent a bullet through me. Well, I am glad that confounded tooth kept me awake. It has given me a chance of seeing you. Why, I had only just lain down in my clothes, after stamping about the room till I was afraid I should disturb the house. Give me something for it, there’s a good fellow.”
North hesitated for a few moments, trembling lest he should say words that would excite his cousin’s attention; but at last he rose with one hand across his eyes.
“What, are your eyes so bad?” said Cousin Thompson.
“Yes,” was the laconic reply; and North went to the surgery, took a small bottle from a drawer, the clink of a stopper or two was heard, and a peculiar smell arose, as Thompson noted, with eager eyes, how his cousin kept his back to him while dropping a small quantity from each of the bottles he took down.
“Can you see?” said Cousin Thompson, holding the candle.
“Yes, I can see, thank you,” said North, replacing the bottles on the shelf, and fitting a cork to that he held, before labelling it “poison.”
“Rub a little of that upon the outside of your face; it will allay the pain.”
“It’s awfully good of you,” said Thompson smoothly, “specially now you’re so ill. Thanks. Rub a little outside, don’t you say? I suppose this ‘poison’ is only a scarecrow. It wouldn’t hurt me if I took the lot.”
“No,” said North quietly. “It would not hurt you. The sensation would he rather pleasant.”