Bruce answered him:
“Yes, for some hours, I fear, but we wanted to avoid spreading unnecessary rumors until—”
“I understand. My poor friend! How came this to happen?”
The skilled practitioner merely lifted one of the dead man’s eyelids, and then turned to examine the bottles on the table.
“My own prescription,” he said, after tasting the contents of one phial. “Ah, this was bad; why did he not consult me?” and he sadly shook his head as he tasted the remaining liquid in the second.
“What do you make of it?” said Bruce.
He looked the other steadily in the face and the doctor interpreted the cause of his anxiety.
“A clear case of accidental poisoning,” he replied. “Sir Charles has consulted me several times during the past week on account of his extreme insomnia. I specifically warned him against overdoing my treatment. Change of air, exercise, and diet are the true specifics for sleeplessness, especially when induced, as his was, by a morbid state of mind.”
“You mean—”