"What Mr. Pybus says is correct. There's been a mistake."
"Yes," said Pybus, "there's been a mistake."
"My friend, Lucas, thought he was giving his guests 'Aunt Jane's Jalap,' and instead of that he was giving them--I am afraid, through my carelessness--pure laudanum."
"Oh, it was through your carelessness, was it?" Pybus assumed towards Hughes a little air of ferocity. But it soon disappeared. "But what does it matter if I must die?"
"Pure laudanum!" said the doctor. "Of what strength?"
"The highest possible."
"In what quantity?"
"Enough to kill a dozen men. A bottleful."
"A bottleful of laudanum!"
The words were uttered by a newcomer--a little man who came running in as if he ran a race. It was Dunn, another doctor, who had recently started practice round the corner. In appearance he was a complete contrast to Goldsmith. He was a little, wiry, hungry-looking man, who seemed as though he never could keep still. He hurried past Pybus, patting him on the shoulder as he went. Had Pybus been more himself he would have resented the insult to the death.