"How so? What do you mean?" asked the landlord, with a look of surprise.
"I mean what I say," was my reply. "As sure as I am a living man, that child has been murdered." I then related all I had heard, to the horror and astonishment of the landlord.
"A deed like this must not go unpunished," he said, sternly and angrily. "It is horrible to think of it."
After talking over the matter for some time, it was determined to call a council of half a dozen of the regular boarders in the house, as soon as breakfast was over, and decide upon the steps best to be taken. Accordingly, after breakfast, a few of us assembled in a private parlour, and I again related, with minuteness, all that I had heard. After sundry expressions of horror and indignation, a gentleman said to me—"Are you sure it was grains or granules of aconite and arsenic that were given to the child?"
"Grains, sir," I replied, promptly.
"This is a serious matter," he added; "and if there should be any mistake, it would be sad indeed to harrow the feelings of those bereaved parents by so dreadful a charge as that of the murder of their own offspring. My own impression is, that our friend here is under a mistake."
"Can't I believe my own ears, sir?" said I, a little indignantly.
"Don't misunderstand me," returned the gentleman, politely. "I don't doubt you have heard all you say, and it may be even to the word grains; but I am under the impression that the arsenic and aconite given were in the homoeopathic preparations, and therefore no longer poisonous."
There was a long pause after this was said; every one present seemed to breathe more freely. I had heard of homoeopathy, and something about infinitesimal doses, but had never seen the medicine used, neither did I know any thing about the mode in which it was sometimes practised.
"Suppose we send for the man," suggested the landlord, "and question him,—but in a way not to wound him, if he be innocent."