“Whilst I was dressing for dinner Evelyn Devenish knocked at my door and entered the room.
“ ‘Here’s the draught for you,’ she said. ‘There are a few more crystals than there were last time. But not too many. I should take them all.’
“She pushed the white packet into my hand and went out again. The packet was a good deal heavier than the one which she had originally given me, and I was afraid to use it all. I dissolved about three-quarters of the crystals in a small amount of water whilst I finished dressing, poured the draught carefully into a little medicine bottle, corked the bottle and hid it in a drawer. Then I went down to dinner and found you”—she turned towards Mr. Ricardo with a smile. “You gave me a fine shock afterwards, although you were unaware of it, but at that moment I was delighted to see you. I had been alone before—now I had someone who would stand by my side.”
“Yes, yes! To be sure, I was there,” said Mr. Ricardo, feeling quite ready for everything now that the danger of everything had passed. He was unable, indeed, to understand in what way he could have caused Joyce Whipple any serious alarm. Joyce was making a mistake. Her memories of that night were not unnaturally confused.
“I welcomed you all the more,” Joyce continued, “because we were all, with the exception of Robin Webster, nervous on that evening. He was as calm, as self-assured, as though he had no anxiety upon his mind heavier than a doubt whether the shower of rain would fall in time to increase the vintage. But the rest of us were troubled, and when the Abbé Fauriel arrived with his story of the stolen vestments, I think we were all on the edge of hysteria. I know that I made the most terrible blunder when I cried out: ‘It is not I who dispense the cold!’ There was not a soul in the dining-room except the servants, Mrs. Tasborough and Mr. Ricardo who did not understand my allusion. I had given away my knowledge of the horrible secret which bound that little household as clearly as if I had stood up and cried it aloud. I remember that Evelyn Devenish, after the moment of consternation had passed, looked triumphantly across the table at Robin Webster. She was saying by her expression as clearly as words could have said: ‘What did I tell you? She knows.’
“There was, indeed, a little conference held upon the terrace after dinner between her and Robin Webster and de Mirandol. But they had no reason to think that I was aware of what they had planned for tonight, and as for tomorrow—well, Evelyn Devenish had made her arrangements for me. I was afraid for a moment that the celebration might be put off until the Friday. For I had no excuse for altering my arrangements. I was bound to go in the morning. But as the conference broke up, de Mirandol said in his high voice: ‘At one o’clock, then.’ Then a low cry of impatience from Evelyn Devenish, but he added ‘tomorrow,’ and they all laughed.
“The arrangement was to hold, then. I have explained to you how I had slipped into the way of preparing the drinks of the party. I ran off to my room, got the little bottle with the sleeping-draught, and holding it in my handkerchief, returned to the drawing-room just in time to hear Mrs. Tasborough calling for Diana to mix a nightcap for the Abbé. Diana, Mr. Ricardo at all events will remember, came into the room last of all, and asked me for a brandy-and-soda. The table was so placed that I had my back to the room. I took the cork out of the little bottle, put some brandy into the glass, and then, tilting the siphon with my left hand, squirted the soda-water into it. At the same time I was holding the glass on the table with my right hand, and I was able to empty the little phial into the brandy under cover of the noise made by the siphon. Immediately afterwards, the Abbé Fauriel and the others who were not staying in the house departed, and we dispersed to our rooms. It was still very early.”
“Yes,” Mr. Ricardo agreed. “I remember that it was exactly ten minutes to eleven when I began to prepare myself for bed.”
“I had made up my mind to wait for an hour and a half before I stole down to Diana’s room. And I have never known time creep so slowly. With the passage of each everlasting minute I shrank more and more from the peril in front of me. I saw myself detected, my mask stripped from me. I imagined Evelyn Devenish gloating over me, her hate satisfied. But I had a shivery sort of intuition that even she could not be as cruel as de Mirandol with his red lips and his big, flabby face. I did what I could to distract my thoughts. But it was very little. Though I had all that time to spare, I took off my dress and changed into black stockings and shoes as if I hadn’t a minute to lose. And then quite suddenly the sight of my bed, with its white sheet turned neatly down, began to make me drowsy. I began to argue: ‘Suppose that I went to bed, Diana could not leave the house tonight. That’s certain and that’s the main thing.’
“Of course
