The Ghost: A Modern Fantasy - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Ghost: A Modern Fantasy Part 27 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
"I am not well," she said; "I feel so hot, and there is that hoa.r.s.eness in my throat. Mr. Foster, you must take me home. The rehearsal will have to be postponed again; I am sorry. It's very queer."
She stood up with my a.s.sistance, looking wildly about her, but appealing to no one but myself.
"It is queer," I said, supporting her.
"Mademoiselle was ill in the same way last time," several sympathetic voices cried out, and some of the women caressed her gently.
"Let me get home," she said, half-shouting, and she clung to me. "My hat--my gloves--quick!"
"Yes, yes," I said; "I will get a fiacre."
"Why not my victoria?" she questioned imperiously.
"Because you must go in a closed carriage," I said firmly.
"Mademoiselle will accept my brougham?"
A tall dark man had come forward. He was the Escamillo. She thanked him with a look. Some woman threw a cloak over Rosa's shoulders, and, the baritone on one side of her and myself on the other, we left the theatre. It seemed scarcely a moment since she had entered it confident and proud.
During the drive back to her flat I did not speak, but I examined her narrowly. Her skin was dry and burning, and on her forehead there was a slight rash. Her lips were dry, and she continually made the motion of swallowing. Her eyes sparkled, and they seemed to stand out from her head. Also she still bitterly complained of thirst. She wanted, indeed, to stop the carriage and have something to drink at the Cafe de l'Univers, but I absolutely declined to permit such a proceeding, and in a few minutes we were at her flat. The attack was pa.s.sing away.
She mounted the stairs without much difficulty.
"You must go to bed," I said. We were in the salon. "In a few hours you will be better."
"I will ring for Yvette."
"No," I said, "you will not ring for Yvette. I want Yvette myself.
Have you no other servant who can a.s.sist you?"
"Yes. But why not Yvette?"
"You can question me to-morrow. Please obey me now. I am your doctor.
I will ring the bell. Yvette will come, and you will at once go out of the room, find another servant, and retire to bed. You can do that?
You are not faint?"
"No, I can do it; but it is very queer."
I rang the bell.
"You have said that before, and I say, 'It is queer; queerer than you imagine.' One thing I must ask you before you go. When you had the attack in the theatre did you see things double?"
"Yes," she answered. "But how did you know? I felt as though I was intoxicated; but I had taken nothing whatever."
"Excuse me, you had taken egg-and-milk. Here is the gla.s.s out of which you drank it." I picked up the gla.s.s, which had been left on the table, and which still contained about a spoonful of egg-and-milk.
Yvette entered in response to my summons.
"Mademoiselle has returned soon," the girl began lightly.
"Yes."
The two women looked at each other. I hastened to the door, and held it open for Rosa to pa.s.s out. She did so. I closed the door, and put my back against it. The gla.s.s I still held in my hand.
"Now, Yvette, I want to ask you a few questions."
She stood before me, pretty even in her plain black frock and black ap.r.o.n, and folded her hands. Her face showed no emotion whatever.
"Yes, monsieur, but mademoiselle will need me."
"Mademoiselle will not need you. She will never need you again."
"Monsieur says?"
"You see this gla.s.s. What did you put in it?"
"The cook put egg-and-milk into it."
"I ask what you put in it?"
"I, monsieur? Nothing."
"You are lying, my girl. Your mistress has been poisoned."
"I swear--"
"I should advise you not to swear. You have twice attempted to poison your mistress. Why did you do it?"
"But this is absurd."
"Does your mistress use eyedrops when she sings at the Opera?"
"Eyedrops?"
"You know what I mean. A lotion which you drop into the eye in order to dilate the pupil."
"My mistress never uses eyedrops."
"Does Madame Carlotta Deschamps use eyedrops?"
It was a courageous move on my part, but it had its effect. She was startled.
"I--I don't know, monsieur."
"I ask because eyedrops contain atropine, and mademoiselle is suffering from a slight, a very slight, attack of atropine poisoning.
The dose must have been very nicely gauged; it was just enough to produce a temporary hoa.r.s.eness and discomfort. I needn't tell such a clever girl as you that atropine acts first on the throat. It has clearly been some one's intention to prevent mademoiselle from singing at rehearsals, and from appearing in Paris in 'Carmen.'"
Yvette drew herself up, her nostrils quivering. She had turned decidedly pale.
"Monsieur insults me by his suspicions. I must go."