Was this acting? Was this the perfect simulation of an accomplished hypocrite? No, no, no; Douglas Dale could not believe it.
The tears came into his eyes; he extended his hand, and grasped that of his old servant.
"You shall stay with me, Jarvis," he said; "and I will trust you with all my heart."
Douglas Dale left his chambers soon after that conversation, and went straight to Dr. Westbrook, to whom he gave a fall account of the interview.
"I have tested the old man thoroughly," he said, in conclusion; "and I believe him to be fidelity itself."
"You have tested him, Mr. Dale! stuff and nonsense!" exclaimed the practical physician. "You surely don't call that sentimental conversation a test? If the man is capable of being a slow poisoner, he is, of course, capable of acting a part, and shedding crocodile's tears in evidence of his devoted affection for the master whose biliary organs he is deranging by the administration of antimony, or aconite. If you want to test the man thoroughly, test him in my way. Contrive to eat your breakfast elsewhere for a week or two; touch nothing, not so much as a glass of water, in your own chambers; and if at the end of that time the symptoms have ceased, you will know what to think of that pattern of fidelity—Mr. Jarvis."
Douglas promised to take the doctor's advice. He was convinced of his servant's innocence; but he wanted to put that question beyond doubt.
But if Jarvis was indeed innocent, where was the guilty wretch to be found?
Douglas Dale dined at Hilton House upon the evening after his interview with Dr. Westbrook, as he had done without intermission for several weeks. He found Paulina tender and affectionate, as she had ever been of late, since respect and esteem for her lover's goodness had developed into a warmer feeling.
"Douglas," she said, on this particular evening, when they were alone together for a few minutes after dinner, "your health has not improved as much as I had hoped it would under the treatment of your doctor. I wish you would consult some one else."