Chapter Nineteen.
Hoefer’s Strange Methods.
Twenty or thirty minutes elapsed before I regained my power of speech. The drugs administered by Hoefer fortunately had the effect desired. His sleepy eyes beamed through his great spectacles as he watched with satisfaction the stimulating consequence of the injection. He dissolved in water a tiny red tabloid, which he took from a small glass tube in a case he carried, and ordered me to drink it. This I did, finding it exceedingly bitter, and wondering what it was.
I asked no questions, however. He was a man who had made many extraordinary discoveries, all of which he had kept a secret. In the medical profession he was acknowledged to be one of the greatest living toxicologists, and his opinions were often sought by the various medical centres. Indeed, as every medical man knows, the name of Hoefer is synonymous with all that is occult in the science of toxicology, and the antidotes he has given to the world, from time to time, are as curious as they are drastic in effect.
“Have you experienced any strange sensation?” was my first question of him.
“No, none,” he answered. “Ach! it is all very curious—very curious indeed! I have never before seen similar cases. There is actual rigor mortis. The symptoms so closely resemble death that one might so easily mistake. We must investigate further. It cannot be that there is any lethal gas in the room, for the window is wide open; and, again, while actually in the room no ill effect is felt. It is only on emerging.”
“Yes,” I answered. “I was struck almost at the instant I came out. It was as sudden as an electric shock. I cannot account for it in the least; can you?”
“No,” he answered; “it is a mystery. But I like mysteries; they always interest me. There is so much to learn that one is constantly making fresh discoveries.”
“Then you will try and solve this?” urged her ladyship, after expressing satisfaction at my recovery.