PART II. The Country of the Saints.
6. CHAPTER VI. A CONTINUATION OF THE REMINISCENCES OF JOHN WATSON, M.D.
(continued)
"Don't imagine that I intended to kill him in cold blood.
It would only have been rigid justice if I had done so,
but I could not bring myself to do it. I had long determined
that he should have a show for his life if he chose to take
advantage of it. Among the many billets which I have filled
in America during my wandering life, I was once janitor and
sweeper out of the laboratory at York College. One day the
professor was lecturing on poisons, and he showed his
students some alkaloid, as he called it, which he had
extracted from some South American arrow poison, and which
was so powerful that the least grain meant instant death.
I spotted the bottle in which this preparation was kept, and
when they were all gone, I helped myself to a little of it.
I was a fairly good dispenser, so I worked this alkaloid into
small, soluble pills, and each pill I put in a box with a
similar pill made without the poison. I determined at the
time that when I had my chance, my gentlemen should each have
a draw out of one of these boxes, while I ate the pill that
remained. It would be quite as deadly, and a good deal less
noisy than firing across a handkerchief. From that day I had
always my pill boxes about with me, and the time had now come
when I was to use them.
"It was nearer one than twelve, and a wild, bleak night,
blowing hard and raining in torrents. Dismal as it was
outside, I was glad within -- so glad that I could have
shouted out from pure exultation. If any of you gentlemen
have ever pined for a thing, and longed for it during twenty
long years, and then suddenly found it within your reach, you
would understand my feelings. I lit a cigar, and puffed at
it to steady my nerves, but my hands were trembling, and my
temples throbbing with excitement. As I drove, I could see
old John Ferrier and sweet Lucy looking at me out of the
darkness and smiling at me, just as plain as I see you all in
this room. All the way they were ahead of me, one on each
side of the horse until I pulled up at the house in the
Brixton Road.
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