Juggernaut - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Juggernaut Part 50 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"He is not sufficiently ill to be given anything without his consent, and as things are I daren't press him too much; he might think it peculiar.... No, it is no good; there has got to be some other way, something altogether different. Quickly too. To postpone it now would be the greatest risk of all.... It would have been very natural to have two members of a family fall ill with the same disease, but it can't be helped now. I happen to have some stuff here which will accomplish my purpose just as satisfactorily. That's why I came back this afternoon; I don't want to waste any time."
Esther's brief elation vanished like a bubble into the air. Some fresh horror was afoot. What was this man plotting now? She held her breath and listened painfully. She heard the doors of the oak armoire creak on their hinges as they swung open, then came the click of a gla.s.s jar.
Holliday spoke, a tinge of fascinated curiosity in his tone.
"What sort of stuff do you mean? Not any kind of poison?"
"Good Lord, no! That would be asking for trouble. This must be a natural death; there's no good attempting anything else. Here's the thing I propose to use."
"What is it? It looks harmless."
"Simply teta.n.u.s."
She thought that her heart entirely stopped beating. Teta.n.u.s! Gripped by a sickening fear she forced herself to lie quite still, while waves of horror pa.s.sed over. She heard as in a dream the stifled e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of the young man.
"Teta.n.u.s ... why, G.o.d in heaven, that's lock-jaw!"
"Quite. The anti-toxin for it has been discovered, as a matter of fact. I have discovered it. However, that is not known to the public yet; it was very recent."
There was the sound of a long-drawn, shuddering gasp.
"But how do you mean to ... won't it be dangerous?" Holliday faltered.
"As it happens it is quite simple--a piece of luck. In fact that is why I thought of teta.n.u.s. It seems Clifford has been going about for nearly a week with an open cut on his thumb. Half the time there's no bandage on it, although I've warned him more than once of the risk of infection. This morning his aunt persuaded him to let me disinfect it properly and bandage it. So that is what I am going to do when I get back this evening."
There was a choking sound, as if Holliday were in danger of being sick.
A chair sc.r.a.ped on the floor; there was the clink of gla.s.s.
"Here, pull yourself together; this will fix you. Sit there.... I did not know you were so sensitive."
A gulp, followed by another shuddering sound. Then, weakly, with a sort of loathing, "I don't know. I never liked the fellow ... but this... Besides, it's d.a.m.ned risky; you can't pretend it isn't."
"Why? Think of it calmly. Who can prove how he got the infection?
It's a thing that can never be proved, one way or the other. Everyone knows he's laid himself open to it, that I have warned him.... No, no.
You will see. As for any other feeling you may have, you must settle with your own squeamishness; that is no concern of mine."
There was a short pause, while upon her hard couch Esther set her teeth together and clenched her hands with all her remaining strength. She wondered if she was going to faint. She felt she must listen, listen, not miss one word. Like something in a nightmare the cold, phlegmatic voice continued slowly:
"I look upon things as they are, simply, without prejudice. With all life, human or otherwise, one creature preys upon another. One has to decide, Am I worth the sacrifice of another human being? I do not know that I should consider you worth it, my good friend, to be quite frank, but in my own case I venture to think that I am. Having made my mind clear on this point, I go ahead, merely observing certain precautions which will be necessary as long as the exceptional individual is so far in advance of the ma.s.s. I do not hesitate to declare that the work I can do for science is worth many hundreds--or shall I say thousands?--of Cliffords, young and old. To think for one moment of putting my labours for the next twenty years in the balance against a couple of cotton-manufacturers is ludicrous, that is all."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Yes, if you look at it that way, I suppose it's a devil of a joke!"
Holliday was becoming hysterical.
"Also one must not lose sight of the fact that when the young one is out of the way, you and I will both benefit considerably more than we first expected. Lady Clifford will inherit three to four times as much. I look forward to being quite unhampered; I shall be able to devote myself to research for the rest of my life."
Somewhere far below a clock struck a single mellow clang. It was the same clock that had ticked so loudly that day when Esther first came to the house. She could see it now, its wide white face crossed by its thin hands of decorated bronze.
"Six-thirty. I must be off to catch Clifford when he gets home. The imbecile has been out and about the town for two days with a temperature of over a hundred and one--searching everywhere for this girl. I believe he was going to the police to-day. That is another reason for not losing time. There is little likelihood of anyone's coming here, but one never knows."
In the midst of her almost paralysing fear a thrill shot through Esther when she heard that Roger was concerned over her disappearance. Then it had mattered to him when she didn't telephone! She also knew now how long she had been here. If only these two would go, would leave her alone, she might possibly be able to carry out her plan of escape; she would risk it, anyway, desperate though it seemed. Once she got clear of the house she could find a telephone and ring Roger up. That would be sufficient. If only they would go! Why were they still lingering here?
At last the floor creaked with the heavy tread. A wild hope rose in her breast. A second later and it perished miserably, as she heard the doctor say:
"I'll just give her another shot before I leave. Then she'll be safe for some time. Where is the syringe?"
"Here, on the table."
A silence, then Sartorius's voice, reflectively:
"Humph, you didn't give her quite all of it, did you? There's a bit left."
That, perhaps, explained her being conscious now. What an irony! To think that Holliday's inexpertness should have brought about the agony of the past half-hour! But for him she would have remained in peaceful oblivion, out of which she would have pa.s.sed imperceptibly to her final sleep. These terrible moments were her last glimpses of life. In a few seconds would come utter blankness again; her last chance would be gone for saving Roger and herself. Should she make a struggle for it and die fighting? Or was it better to continue her supine pretence and quietly allow the needle to reduce her once more to a merciful torpor?
"Hand me that tumbler, will you?"
Water splashed from the tap into the basin. She could have burst out laughing at the precise habits of the man which remained with him now when they mattered not at all. She could almost see him wash the needle, could follow every movement up to the setting down of the gla.s.s beside her on the little _table de nuit_.
It was coming, now, the stab that marked the end of conscious life, the ruin of her one hope of rescuing the man she loved from a horrible death. It was all over now.... She felt the doctor's breath stir her hair, she smelled again the hot odour of strong tobacco, was conscious of the wave of animal heat emanating from his body as he bent over her.
Now ... her lovely chestnut-coloured blouse must be peppered with holes. What a pity! ... not that it mattered now--how absurd to think of that! ...
CHAPTER XXIX
What sound was that? The noise of ringing. Was it within her own brain? No, surely not; it was the bell downstairs, a loud, persistent peal. Not the telephone; no, it must be the front-door bell.
An annoyed exclamation came from the doctor.
"I'll have to answer that; it won't do to leave it."
A little click as the needle was laid down, then the retreating steps of both men, out of the room. The door closed, the key turned mechanically. She could hear the doctor's heavy steps lumbering all the way down to the bottom floor, while she fancied Holliday remained on the stairs. Was this a providential respite, or only another tantalising false hope?
Cautiously she opened her eyes and moved her cramped limbs a little.
What difference could it make now if they knew she had been awake? On the table at her side she saw the hypodermic syringe, fully charged, lying beside a gla.s.s of water. She stared at them fascinated.
Suddenly an idea came to her, the wildest idea conceivable, not one chance in a million of its succeeding, yet now, in the face of extinction, anything was worth trying. She had nothing to lose. Quick as lightning she seized the needle, squirted its contents on the floor back of the bed, then with the same speed refilled it from the tumbler.
She laid it down again exactly where it had been before, looked to see that there were no drops spilled. Then once more she lay down, trying with meticulous care to resume her old posture. Was this right? No, her head must have been a little lower. Oh, what hope was there of deceiving those keen little python's eyes? The man would surely detect the smallest variation in her att.i.tude. No, it was a pathetic ruse, foredoomed to failure. If he suspected she had moved he would examine the needle, he would see the difference in colour. Her one hope lay in the gloom of the alcove. A few minutes more and she would know the worst.
She lay still and counted to keep from going mad. One, two, three, four, five--slowly, more slowly still, so as to make sixty counts equal a minute. One never could do that, one always went too fast. She had counted three sixties when the front door closed below and returning footsteps mounted the stairs. One flight, two flights ... the key rasped, the boards creaked, she heard Sartorius saying:
"You see now, that is the sort of thing one must be prepared for.
Suppose no one had been here? Those a.s.ses would have gone back to the agent's and got a key, or else some fellow from the office would have come back with them to show them the house. Just the same, I want you to telephone the estate office that I've changed my mind about sub-letting."
He was now at her side. Would he notice anything wrong?
"She's about to come to. I thought that dose wouldn't last long."