Tales of Terror
4. The Case of Lady Sannox (continued)
The Turk's answer was a singular one. He pulled the string
which closed the mouth of the chamois-leather bag, and poured a
flood of gold on to the table.
"There are one hundred pounds there," said he, "and I promise
you that it will not take you an hour. I have a cab ready at the
door."
Douglas Stone glanced at his watch. An hour would not make it
too late to visit Lady Sannox. He had been there later. And the
fee was an extraordinarily high one. He had been pressed by his
creditors lately, and he could not afford to let such a chance
pass. He would go.
"What is the case?" he asked.
"Oh, it is so sad a one! So sad a one! You have not, perhaps
heard of the daggers of the Almohades?"
"Never."
"Ah, they are Eastern daggers of a great age and of a singular
shape, with the hilt like what you call a stirrup. I am a
curiosity dealer, you understand, and that is why I have come to
England from Smyrna, but next week I go back once more. Many
things I brought with me, and I have a few things left, but among
them, to my sorrow, is one of these daggers."
"You will remember that I have an appointment, sir," said the
surgeon, with some irritation; "pray confine yourself to the
necessary details."
"You will see that it is necessary. Today my wife fell down in
a faint in the room in which I keep my wares, and she cut her lower
lip upon this cursed dagger of Almohades."
"I see," said Douglas Stone, rising. "And you wish me to dress
the wound?"
"No, no, it is worse than that."
"What then?"
"These daggers are poisoned."
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