CHAPTER IX
THE DUEL
He was a self-important, incompetent fellow; I could see that, and so just the man for our purpose. I had impressed upon Von Lindheim that his life depended on his playing his part well, and I must say there was no fault to be found with his performance. He appeared to be in great agony, while Szalay and I, with a great show of excitement and distress, told the doctor a plausible tale of the sudden seizure. Finally, I laid stress upon the suddenness of the attack in perfect health, and suggested ptomaine poisoning.
“Assuredly,” the fellow returned, well pleased at finding himself taken for rather more than even he pretended to be. “The symptoms certainly point to the presence of poisonous matter in the system, and we must, at all events, take measures to counteract it.”
Accordingly he did take measures, which the patient in turn took good care to neutralize. The doctor was so fussy and stupid that we found no difficulty in contriving that he should not make an examination which might have betrayed, even to him, the real state of the case.
Presently he bustled off to prepare a draught. I offered to accompany him to his house, and hurry back with the potion, so that it might be given without delay. As I opened the door to go out a young fellow came up, an officer by his uniform, and asked for Von Lindheim. I guessed at once that he was the second of the fire-eating Captain de Hayn, and rejoiced that he had arrived at that moment.
I saluted him punctiliously. “Herr von Lindheim has, I regret to say, been taken ill, dangerously ill. It is impossible for you to see him.”
As I expected, the young fellow gave an incredulous smile.
“Really, sir? My——”
I cut him short. “Here is the doctor, who will confirm what I tell you. You know Dr. Rothmer?”