“Now that we have arranged that business,” resumed Grenits, “I have a question to put to our host.”
“By all means, Theodoor,” said Verstork, “what is it?”
“I am a merchant,” said Grenits, “and as such, I am bound to be very inquisitive. In trade I not only need all the information I can obtain about any article of commerce; but I find a little chemistry uncommonly useful—”
“Come to the point,” cried several of the guests; “we don’t want any lectures on chemistry and commerce!”
But Grenits, without paying any heed to the interruption, went on: “Just now in your speech you made mention of a certain remedy which I think you said you found useful in curing some unhappy slaves to opium. Is that, may I ask, a secret remedy?”
“A secret remedy?” asked Verstork, with a laugh. “What do you mean—do you take me for a quack-doctor?”
“Not by any means,” replied Grenits. “Since this remedy then is not a secret one, will you tell me what it is?”
“With pleasure,” said Verstork; “they are pills which were given me by a missionary. They are composed of opium and radix rhei or rhubarb, in the following proportions: Twelve of these pills contain three grains of opium and twelve grains of rhubarb. They are to be administered every five days; the first time twelve have to be taken, the next time nine, the third time six, but it is very seldom indeed that the third dose is required, for by that time the patients are generally cured.”
“And,” persisted Grenits, “can you actually vouch for their efficacy?”
“To be sure I can,” replied Verstork. “In my study you will find a kind of trophy consisting of a dozen bedoedans or opium-pipes which the smokers have deposited with me with the solemn promise that they would never touch the pipe again. The missionary who gave me the pills can speak most positively of upwards of seventy cures.”