"Port, sherry, claret," she replied. "Whichever you like."
"Sherry, then," answered Pratt. "Bring a bottle if you can get it—I want a good drink."
The woman went away—through the disused part of the old house into the modern portion. She went straight to a certain store closet and took from it a bottle of old dry sherry which had been brought there from a bin in the cellars—it was part of a quantity of fine wine laid down by John Mallathorpe, years before, and its original owner would have been disgusted to think that it should ever be used for the mere purpose of quenching thirst. But Esther Mawson had another purpose in view, with respect to that bottle. Carrying it to her own sitting-room, she carefully cut off the thick mass of sealing-wax at its neck, drew the cork, and poured a little of the wine away. And that done, she unlocked a small box which stood on a corner of her dressing table, and took from it a glass phial, half full of a colourless liquid. With steady hands and sure fingers, she dropped some of that liquid into the wine, carefully counting the drops. Then she restored the phial to its hiding-place and re-locked the box—after which, taking up a spoon which lay on her table, she poured out a little of the sherry and smelled and tasted it. No smell—other than that which ought to be there; no taste—other than was proper. Pratt would suspect nothing even if he drunk the whole bottle.
Esther Mawson had anticipated Pratt's desires in the way of refreshment, and she now went to a cupboard and took from it a plate of sandwiches, carefully swathed in a napkin. Carrying these in one hand, and the bottle of sherry and a glass in the other, she stole quietly back to the disused part of the house, and set her provender before its expectant consumer. Pratt poured out a glassful of the sherry, and drank it eagerly.
"Good stuff that!" he remarked, smacking his lips. "Some of old John
Mallathorpe's—no doubt."
"It was here when we came, anyhow," replied Esther. "Well—I shall have to go. You'll be all right until I come back."
"What time do you think it'll be?" asked Pratt. "Make it as soon as the coast's clear—I want to be off."
"As soon as ever she's gone," agreed Esther. "I heard her order the carriage for half-past two."
"And no fear of anybody else being about?" asked Pratt. "That butler man, for instance? Or servants?"
"I'll see to it," replied Esther reassuringly. "I'll lock this door and take the key until I come back—make yourself comfortable."