Carroll paid small attention to her manner. "If you will send out some old linen, pepper, mustard, and salt from the house, it will be all that we can use. To be frank," he added, in a low tone, "there is little hope now."
Madam Trevor looked aghast, and her manner softened instantly. "Little hope! What do you mean? What shall we do?"
"What I ask, if you please. Linen, salt, mustard, and pepper. Chloe, you must heat some water in the kettle there." And Carroll turned about again as Madam Trevor, without another word, hurried out of the cabin on her errand.
The girl, meantime, bent over Sambo, questioning him.
"What was it, Sambo? Have you eaten anything? What have you done?" she asked, caressingly.
Sambo, panting from weakness, answered, just audibly: "Done eat nuf 'n 't all but mushrooms you picked 's mo'n wiv Mas' Frenchman. You say dey good fo' dinne'."
"My God!"
"What is it?" asked the doctor, quickly, seeing her face grow gray.
"He has eaten the muscaria," she whispered, tremulously.
"I know it."