“Now tell me,” I said firmly, turning to the agitated woman at my side, “how did this occur?”
“I don’t know.”
“But if her life is to be saved we must know the truth,” I said, my eyes fixed upon her. “In this manner to prevaricate is useless. Tell me how it is that I find her in this condition of fatal collapse.”
“I cannot tell you things of which I myself am ignorant,” she answered, with a well-feigned air of innocence.
“You wish to save your cousin’s life?” I inquired.
“Certainly. She must not die,” she cried anxiously.
“Then answer my questions plainly, and leave the rest entirely in my hands,” I replied. “From your manner I know that you have some secret which you are striving to conceal. Knowledge of this secret will, no doubt, place me in a position to combat this extraordinary attack. If because you maintain silence she dies, then an inquest will be held, and the truth must come out—and a scandalous truth it will be.”
“Scandalous!” she exclaimed with some hauteur. “I don’t understand.”
“An attempt has been made upon her life,” I said as calmly as I could. “Those who are responsible for this must, if she dies, be discovered.”
“An attempt upon her life? How do you know?” she gasped.