I held my breath. This declaration by one of the greatest professors of toxicology in Europe staggered me. A dastardly attempt had been made upon me by one of the most notorious of modern criminals!
Why? No attempt at assassination is made without some motive, and the game must ever be “worth the candle.”
The whole of the dramatic incidents of the night flashed across my memory; how I had faced the fellow in my room, challenged him at the point of my pistol, and compelled him to give me meekly proofs of his respectability. Truly it was all humorous—but only from Despujol’s point of view.
I recollected those innocent-looking pins which apparently had been left so carelessly in my room. Each held for me a sudden and suspicious death.
“The slightest puncture of the skin would inevitably prove fatal,” the Professor continued. “Feeling yourself pricked you would naturally remove the pin and very quickly afterwards death would supervene. So prior to it you yourself would no doubt have removed all trace of the crime!”
“It is as well that such poison is not generally known, or it would be used by many who wished to get rid of their friends,” I remarked.
The Professor laughed, and agreed, saying:
“There are several poisons of the same type which are known only to toxicologists, and we are very careful not to allow the public sufficient knowledge of them. I must confess that I never dreamed when I commenced my investigations that I was in the presence of orosin. There is sufficient in this little tube”—and he held it to the light—“to kill a hundred persons. It certainly is one of the most dangerous of known compounds.”
“So it is evident that the man Despujol entered my room and placed the pins there intending that I should step upon one or other of them!” I gasped.
“Without doubt. And it seems little short of a marvel that you escaped,” said the Professor.