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“Well, that’s funny, for it’s just the same with me,” cried Ainslie. “Anabsurd up-and-down buzzing, as if a drunken bluebottle were tryingexperiments on his register. As you say, it must be due to nervousstrain. For my part I am going back to Peking, and I hope I may get somepromotion over this affair. I can get good polo here, and that’s as finea change of thought as I know. How about you, Ralston?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve hardly had time to think. I want to have a realgood sunny, bright holiday and forget it all. It was funny to see allthe letters in my room. It looked so black on Wednesday night that I hadsettled up my affairs and written to all my friends. I don’t quite knowhow they were to be delivered, but I trusted to luck. I think I willkeep those papers as a souvenir. They will always remind me of how closea shave we have had.”
“Yes, I would keep them,” said Dresler.
His voice was so deep and solemn that every eye was turned upon him.
“What is it, Colonel? You seem in the blues to-night.” It was Ainsliewho spoke.
“No, no; I am very contented.”
“Well, so you should be when you see success in sight. I am sure we areall indebted to you for your science and skill. I don’t think we couldhave held the place without you. Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you todrink the health of Colonel Dresler, of the Imperial German army. Ersoll leben—hoch!”
They all stood up and raised their glasses to the soldier, with smilesand bows.
His pale face flushed with professional pride.
“I have always kept my books with me. I have forgotten nothing,” saidhe. “I do not think that more could be done. If things had gone wrongwith us and the place had fallen you would, I am sure, have freed mefrom any blame or responsibility.” He looked wistfully round him.
“I’m voicing the sentiments of this company, Colonel Dresler,” said theScotch minister, “when I say——but, Lord save us! what’s amiss with Mr.Ralston?”
He had dropped his face upon his folded arms and was placidly sleeping.
“Don’t mind him,” said the Professor, hurriedly. “We are all in thestage of reaction now. I have no doubt that we are all liable tocollapse. It is only to-night that we shall feel what we have gonethrough.”
“I’m sure I can fully sympathize with him,” said Mrs. Patterson. “Idon’t know when I have been more sleepy. I can hardly hold my own headup.” She cuddled back in her chair and shut her eyes.
“Well, I’ve never known Mary do that before,” cried her husband,laughing heartily. “Gone to sleep over her supper! What ever will shethink when we tell her of it afterwards? But the air does seem hot andheavy. I can certainly excuse any one who falls asleep to-night. I thinkthat I shall turn in early myself.”
Ainslie was in a talkative, excited mood. He was on his feet once morewith his glass in his ha
nd.
“I think that we ought to have one drink all together, and then sing‘Auld Lang Syne,’” said he, smiling round at the company. “For a week wehave all pulled in the same boat, and we’ve got to know each other aspeople never do in the quiet days of peace. We’ve learned to appreciateeach other, and we’ve learned to appreciate each other’s nations.There’s the Colonel here stands for Germany. And Father Pierre is forFrance. Then there’s the Professor for America. Ralston and I areBritishers. Then there’s the ladies, God bless ‘em! They have beenangels of mercy and compassion all through the siege. I think we shoulddrink the health of the ladies. Wonderful thing—the quiet courage, thepatience, the—what shall I say?—the fortitude, the—the—by George, lookat the Colonel! He’s gone to sleep, too—most infernal sleepy weather.”His glass crashed down upon the table, and he sank back, mumbling andmuttering, into his seat. Miss Sinclair, the pale mission nurse, haddropped off also. She lay like a broken lily across the arm of herchair. Mr. Patterson looked round him and sprang to his feet. He passedhis hand over his flushed forehead.
“This isn’t natural, Jessie,” he cried. “Why are they all asleep?There’s Father Pierre—he’s off too. Jessie, Jessie, your mother is cold.Is it sleep? Is it death? Open the windows! Help! help! help!” Hestaggered to his feet and rushed to the windows, but midway his headspun round, his knees sank under him, and he pitched forward upon hisface.
The young girl had also sprung to her feet. She looked round her withhorror-stricken eyes at her prostrate father and the silent ring offigures.
“Professor Mercer! What is it? What is it?” she cried. “Oh, my God, theyare dying! They are dead!”
The old man had raised himself by a supreme effort of his will, thoughthe darkness was already gathering thickly round him.
“My dear young lady,” he said, stuttering and stumbling over the words,“we would have spared you this. It would have been painless to mind andbody. It was cyanide. I had it in the caviare. But you would not haveit.”
“Great Heaven!” She shrank away from him with dilated eyes. “Oh, youmonster! You monster! You have poisoned them!”
“No, no! I saved them. You don’t know the Chinese. They are horrible. Inanother hour we should all have been in their hands. Take it now,child.” Even as he spoke, a burst of firing broke out under the verywindows of the room. “Hark! There they are! Quick, dear, quick, you maycheat them yet!” But his words fell upon deaf ears, for the girl hadsunk back senseless in her chair. The old man stood listening for aninstant to the firing outside. But what was that? Merciful Father, whatwas that? Was he going mad? Was it the effect of the drug? Surely it wasa European cheer? Yes, there were sharp orders in English. There was theshouting of sailors. He could no longer doubt it. By some miracle therelief had come after all. He threw his long arms upwards in hisdespair. “What _have_ I done? Oh, good Lord, what have I done?” hecried.
* * * * *
It was Commodore Wyndham himself who was the first, after his desperateand successful night attack, to burst into that terrible supper-room.Round the table sat the white and silent company. Only in the young girlwho moaned and faintly stirred was any sign of life to be seen. And yetthere was one in the circle who had the energy for a last supreme duty.The Commodore, standing stupefied at the door, saw a grey head slowlylifted from the table, and the tall form of the Professor staggered foran instant to its feet.
“Take care of the caviare! For God’s sake, don’t touch the caviare!” hecroaked.
Then he sank back once more and the circle of death was complete.
THE JAPANNED BOX
