I came upon a pretty-sized flat bottle, with
a long glass stopper.

When you are alone that way, with nothing
to do, you get a great wish to know the ins
and outs of everything. I brought down
the flat bottle to the light, and found it was
all over gilding, and very handsomely cut, —
meant, I suppose, for those perfumed waters
ladies like. I've a fancy myself for these
scented things ; so I got the stopper out, and
began smelling it. But of all the queer
scents in this world, you never met one like
that. I declare it turned me sick all of a
moment. Well, sir, I sat down again before
the fire, and began to speculate, as my way
is, upon the perfume-bottle just, as I said,
for something to do. It's not cordial, nor
strong waters, suppose it be physic ? There
can be no harm in trying, I thought, and
laid just one drop on my tongue. It didn't
taste bad at first, only sourish ; but, after a
minute or so, it gave me a sort of a shooting
feel in the back of the neck, and down along
the back-bone, just like the stinging of
nettles. It went away in a few minutes ; but,
while it lasted, it was the strangest feeling l ever
felt ! "You're not wholesome," I said, as I laid
down the gilt bottle, "not wholesome at all."
It was an odd thing, you'll admit. And why
was it hid away among the love-letters ?

Just then, I thought of the pigeon-hole ;
which it wouldn't do to leave open. It
would look as if I had been spying about.
So I got upon the chairs again, to shut it.
But it wouldn't shut, sir, not a bit of it. The
fact was, the little door had gone clean back
into the wall, out of hand altogether ; and if
I had tried for a month I couldn't have got
at it. When I saw that, I came down again,
and went over to my chair. I knew, in the
confusion it would never be noticed — at least
not until I was out of the house. So I
turned round to the fire, and felt very much
inclined for a doze ; for, you see, we had
come all the night before without sleeping,
and I was very tired. I was going off
lightly, when I heard the door open behind
me, and I saw Mrs. Craven coming in with
a lamp in her hand. I never got such a start.
She looked so like a ghost, with her long
white arms, and her pale face, and her fine
hair all down on her back. She reminded me
of one of those stage women that come on
in the play, stepping on their toes, and going
to murder their own fathers or husbands.

"I want to speak to you," says she in a
husky kind of voice. "You said to-day you saw
Mr. Craven. Tell me about that. What did he
say ? Is he coming here ? Speak — be quick."

"Yes, madam," I said, "I saw Mr. Craven
in town, and he said that he would be here
to-morrow night."

She twisted up her white fingers together
at this. I heard her speaking to herself:
"I knew it. I knew it. They would destroy
me if they could ! Look here," she said,
still clutching her long delicate fingers, "It
must be done before he comes. Do aid me
in this ; you only can save me."

"Save you !" I said. What did she mean ?
I don't know what it was, but I declare to
you, sir, it all flashed upon me at once. I
saw the whole thing in a minute, and all her
odd ways since I entered the house came
to look quite natural, quite natural. I felt
a kind of rage against her rising in me ; and,
by way of defying her, I just turned round
and looked up at the open pigeon-hole.

Her black eyes followed mine like a flash
of lightning.

"Ah !" she cried with a dreadful scream,
"You have been spying on me ! You shall
suffer for it. But you are all in a league to
destroy me. Give me that back, I say !
Give it up, give it up !"

"Give up what ?" I said.

"The bottle you have stolen ! Give it me
quick ! A vile plot to crush a poor woman.
Give it up, or I will kill you !"

She made a rush at me, but I stepped
quickly round behind the table.

"Ha, ha," said I, "that won't do ; it's all
safe here," — touching my coat-pocket.

"Give it me, give it me !" she kept shrieking
over and over again ; and then she tore
her hair, and beat on the table with her
unfortunate fingers, as if she would break it
through. I suppose she stayed there near
an hour, raging round the room, and going
over the same thing, "Give it me !" At
last she went away.

I never passed such a time as that, before
or since. I never shall forget what I went
through with that terrible woman. All that
night she was coming in and out, begging
and imploring of me to save her. She came
back, — well I suppose twenty times. Once
she went down on her knees to me, and
I was very near giving way to her, for
she was a fine creature, and it went against
me to see her on the ground there breaking
her heart. Another time she brought in a
box of her diamonds, and wanted to force them
into my hands ; but I always thought of the
late Welbore Craven, Esquire, lying in the
next room, and that helped me to withstand
all her tears and her diamonds and her gold,
—for she brought that out, too, in plenty.
Besides, I had a sort of pride in not letting
myself be got over by that wicked woman.

Well, sir, the daylight began to break at
last, and then she went away for good, raging
and cursing as it seemed to me. I knew she
would not come back again because of the
light, and the servants beginning to be about.
So I gathered myself up in the chair — being
pierced through with the cold — and stayed
that way till morning.

When it was broad day, I found myself
with the cold ashes before me, and felt
very wretched and uncomfortable ; for you
see, this was the second night I had gone
without any sleep. Just as I was thinking of
going down to get something to warm me up,