A spoon was brought, when the strange woman took the phial and with a steady hand measured out exactly ten drops of the liquid and instantly swallowed it. Then pouring out ten more drops, she said:
“Shall I administer it to your wife, or will you do it?”
Demar hesitated a moment while he stared with a look of perplexity toward Plaxico, who was watching the proceedings with silent contempt.
“Demar,” said he, “I want you to remember that all this nonsense is being enacted contrary to my advice, and in the face of the fair warning I have given you.”
“And I warn you,” said the lady in the black domino firmly, “that if you stand here halting and caviling about trifles much longer Mrs. Demar will die, and you will be to blame for it.”
“Who are you, madame?” inquired Demar, in a hesitating tone.
“It matters not who I am; let me be judged by what I shall do; and if I do not save the life of that poor lady, you may plunge me into the river, or roast me in the furnace.”
“Why did you shout with joy a moment ago when you heard Doctor Plaxico say that Lottie was poisoned, and that she would surely die?”
“Because when he said she was poisoned I knew I could save her life. This antidote was given to me by a learned German surgeon who had served in the British army for many years in India. It was my good fortune to nurse him, in Cincinnati, through a long, lingering spell of typhus fever, and as a reward for my services he gave me these two phials with their contents.”
“Enough!” exclaimed Demar eagerly, “I believe and will trust you, and may God grant you success! Approach and administer the medicine yourself.”