CRIMINAL CARELESSNESS.
Dick Birch soon returned to the house with a small covered basket in
his hand, which he placed on the table in the library. He then brought
from the dining-room a white plate, on which he deposited one of the
homœopathic globules, and divided it into minute fragments. On one of
these particles, with the pointed end of a glass pen-holder, he dropped
an infinitesimal portion of strong sulphuric acid, a vial of which
happened to be among the chemical stores of the library. Dick was not a
practical chemist, and not a very skilful manipulator. Several times he
referred to a volume, open on the table, for information; but evidently
he was not laboring to advance the cause of science.
He watched the experiment with as much interest as the philosophers
of old watched the crucible in which the baser metals were to be
transmuted to pure gold. He was anxious and troubled. The result of his
chemical investigations was almost certain to create a storm at Pine
Hill. While he was thus engaged, Eugene entered the library.
“What are you about, Dick? What in the world are you going to do?” he
asked.
“I am trying an experiment,” replied Dick, as calmly as he could speak.
“I was not aware before that you had any special taste for chemical
science.”
“I have not.”
“What are you doing, then?”
“Do you see this plate?” said the operator, pointing to the spot on the
plate where he had deposited the acid.
“I see it.”
“I put a drop of sulphuric acid on one of the white particles. It was
of a violet-blue color; now it is a mulberry-purple: let us wait.”
“Now it is a light red,” added Eugene, when the spot again changed its
color. “Dick, this is strychnia.”
“Yes.”
“What is the experiment? What are you doing this for?”
“You see these?” continued Dick, in great agitation, as he took the
paper of globules from his pocket.
“I see them.”
“They are the globules which I offered to Julia!” gasped Dick.
“Well, what of it?”
“I put one of them on the plate, and added a minute drop of sulphuric
acid to a particle of one of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that these globules are pure strychnia--the globules that I
offered to Julia.”
“Merciful Heaven!” exclaimed Eugene, turning pale at the thought. “But
you take them yourself.”
“I never took any of these. If I had, I should have been in your new
cemetery before this time,” replied Dick, with a ghastly smile.
“Why don’t you speak, Dick, and tell me what you mean,” said Eugene,
impatiently. “Of course I don’t believe you offered those globules to
Julia, knowing them to be strychnia.”
“I endeavored to persuade her to take them.”
“You did, and Dr. Lynch protested.”
“Why did he protest? _He_ knew they were strychnia; I did not. Neither
the doctor nor myself intended to poison Julia--that is plain enough.”
“He knew, and you did not,” repeated Eugene. “How should he know?”
“Because he poured out the globules of belladonna from my vial, and
substituted globules of strychnia for my especial benefit.”
“O, no, Dick. That is too horrible!”
“The globules were belladonna yesterday; to-day they are strychnia. Who
takes the medicine from the bottle on the table? No one but myself. Did
I intend to commit suicide?”
“It is diabolical, Dick.”
“Who wanted the bottle? Who wanted to analyze the globules? Who was
pale and trembling? Who protested so violently, and even rudely,
against Julia’s taking the innocent pellets?”
“You mean that Dr. Lynch intended----”
“Intended to poison me!” added Dick, when his friend paused, unable
to give breath to the horrible thought. “That is precisely what he
intended to do.”
“He saved Julia.”
“Thank God, he did!” said Dick, fervently. “He did not mean to poison
her.”
“Why should he wish to poison you?”
“I am in his way. Why did he involve me in falsehood,--perjury?”
“I thought he had repented.”
“So did I. I would have trusted him with all I hold dear on earth an
hour ago. Hungerford, on the day that Captain Kingman died, the doctor
surprised Julia and myself in the garden. He was not pleased with the
discovery he had made.”
“But his manner towards you has not changed.”
“No, it has not. We are certainly rivals, but I have scorned to seek
any advantage over him. I have left the matter entirely in the hands of
Julia. I was willing she should decide between us.”
“Has she decided?”
“No; but, Hungerford, I think I have been gaining, while the doctor
has been losing. But never mind these things. Let us look at the naked
facts.”
“Are you sure that Dr. Lynch put the poison into the bottle?”
“Who else could have done it?”
“I don’t know; but before we accuse a man of a crime of this magnitude,
we must be sure.”
“We need not accuse him. We may not be able to prove it, though we
shall be satisfied of the fact. Nobody has been poisoned. He prevented
Julia from taking the medicine. If he had not done so,--if she had
taken the globules and died,--I should have been accused of a great
crime, or criminal carelessness. We can prove nothing.”
“Not yet.”
Eugene pulled the bell, and Parkinson answered the summons. The man was
questioned in regard to the doctor’s movements, after he was admitted
to the house. He had gone into the library; that was all Parkinson
knew. Eugene sent for the ladies.
“What are you going to do, Hungerford?” asked Dick.
“I am going to expose the villain.”
“Is that advisable?”
“The wretch shall never cross my threshold again!” replied Eugene, with
emphasis.
“It would hardly be wise to make this matter public.”
“Why not?”
“We have not sufficient evidence to convict him.”
“Perhaps not; but if there is, he shall be punished. He that would
poison one man for his own interest, would poison another. We have a
public duty to perform. We must protect the community from such a man.”
“What can we prove? Only that the vial contained globules of strychnia.
We can believe it, but there is not a particle of direct evidence to
prove that Dr. Lynch put them there. He was in the room alone; he
protested when Julia was about to take them. Public opinion would be
divided in regard to his guilt. I should be accused of attempting
to put him out of my way; he certainly would not be convicted of
the attempt to kill, and possibly would become more popular on his
persecution, as some would call it.”
“But this is placing expediency before justice.”
“You must believe in many wrongs which it is absolutely quixotic to
attempt to redress publicly. We will look for evidence; if we find it,
we will act accordingly.”
The ladies entered the library.
“Julia, Dr. Lynch is an unmitigated villain!” said Eugene.
“Not so bad as that, I hope,” replied she, startled at the announcement.
Eugene took the plate, repeated and explained the experiment which
had been performed before. Dick now prepared a solution, in which one
of the suspected globules was used, the extreme bitterness of which
was a second and most convincing proof of the strychnia nature of
the substance tested. A live frog was taken from the covered basket,
and his body and hind legs immersed in the liquid. Though none of
the poison was taken into the stomach of the animal, that which was
absorbed through the skin produced convulsions, and the experiment
resulted in death. This third test conclusively established the
poisonous nature of the pellets.
The facts in regard to the globules were duly presented, and those
who had observed the doctor’s pale face, quivering lip, and trembling
knees, realized the meaning of his energetic protest. He was convicted
by that interested group. The ladies were sick with horror. The idol
was broken; the demigod of Pine Hill was dethroned and cast out. They
were all iconoclasts at Pine Hill.
“What a terrible man he is!” said Julia, shuddering, as she walked out
of the library with Dick.
“I tremble when I think that I was pressing you to take those
globules,” said he.
“It is horrible!”
“If the doctor had not been here you might have taken them.”
“I certainly should; I was on the point of taking them as it was.”
“He adopted a very careless method of poisoning me. The vial always
lies on the table in the library, and any person might have partaken of
its contents. He deserves to be hanged for his carelessness, if not for
his crime.”
After tea Dick walked down to the Port, and paid a visit to the doctor,
whom he found in his office.
“Ah, good evening, Mr. Birch; I am happy to see you, as I always am,”
said the doctor. “Have a cigar?”
“Thank you; I don’t like your cigars. Doctor, have you that little
bottle of globules I gave you?”
“Yes, here it is,” replied the wretch, taking the vial from his pocket,
and handing it to his visitor.
“Do you really think these little pills would have harmed Julia?”
“I suppose they would not, but I was afraid of them. Miss Hungerford’s
organization is exceedingly delicate, as I have had occasion to know
when administering medicines to her.”
“But you said, yesterday, that you would not object to taking the
bottle full yourself, thereby intimating that there is no virtue
whatever in them.”
“For a strong man, like you or me, no doubt they would be harmless.”
“Suppose you try them,” suggested Dick.
“Of course I should not object to taking them,” laughed Dr. Lynch, with
one of his ghastly smiles.
“Oblige me by doing so.”
“Thank you; I have no occasion to take them.”
“You think they are harmless?”
“Certainly I do; but I may be mistaken. I was quite unwilling to have
Julia take them, without being sure what they were, and how much
medicinal virtue there might be in them. For this reason I wished to
analyze them.”
“Won’t you oblige me by taking those?” said Dick, pouring out half a
dozen of the globules into the palm of his hand.
“Excuse me, Mr. Birch; I would rather not.”
“I only wish to know whether you believe what you say.”
“In regard to what I said, I may have been mistaken. After the
miraculous cure they wrought upon you, I must conclude that I was
mistaken.”
“Won’t you indulge an old friend so far as to take these half dozen
harmless pellets?” continued Dick, in the most insinuating tone.
“I really cannot do so, Mr. Birch. I am opposed to homœopathy on
principle. I will not countenance the humbug in any way, shape, or
fashion,” replied the doctor, eloquently.
“Do you think they would harm me?”
“You know best. You have taken enough of them to know what virtue they
contain.”
“Are you willing I should take them in your office?”
“Am I willing? Of course I am. You are your own physician. I am not
responsible for their effect upon you.”
“Should you advise me to take them?”
“To be consistent with my own belief, I should advise you not to take
them; but you are not under my medical treatment.”
“Do you think they will harm me?”
“I advise you not to take them. Have you the headache?”
“No; but I merely wish to prove, in defence of homœopathy, that they
are harmless,” replied Dick, as he tossed the six globules into his
mouth.
The doctor started. He looked troubled for a moment, though he
struggled to maintain his self-possession. He believed the globules
were pure strychnia. They were of the smallest size; but there was
poison enough in them to kill a man in a few hours. Dick knew they were
nothing but sugar of milk, with an infinitesimal mixture of belladonna.
Dr. Lynch was agitated. Dick Birch was calm.
“Having taken half a dozen myself, to make sure they are harmless, I
will go home and cure Julia’s headache with half a dozen more,” added
Dick.
“Don’t give them to her,” protested the doctor.
“Why not?”
“Don’t give them to her.”
“Why not?”
“My patients must not be trifled with!” exclaimed the doctor, almost
frantic at the idea of Julia’s taking the poison.
“You are in earnest, doctor?”
“I am.”
“Do you think they are poison?”
“Of course they are not poison.”
“Why do you object?”
Dr. Lynch, fearful that Dick would put his terrible threat into
execution, entered into a long disquisition on the practice of
medicine, and the quality and effects of various drugs, evidently for
the purpose of detaining him. Dick listened patiently, and to the
surprise of the medical gentleman, he did not begin to exhibit any of
the effects of the poison.
“Have a cigar, doctor? These are of the right sort,” said Dick,
producing his cigar-case.
“Excuse me. I must go and visit a patient now.”
“And I will go up and cure Julia’s headache.”
“No. If you insist upon doing that, I shall go up to Pine Hill, and
prevent her from taking them.”
“You are unreasonable, doctor.”
“I have not analyzed the globules yet.”
“When will you do so?”
“To-night, when I return. Give me the vial, Mr. Birch.”
“I will give you part of them.”
“Give me the whole.”
“No; I want part of them.”
Dick defended his system for an hour longer, without being troubled
even with the stomach-ache, very much to the surprise and disgust of
his host.
“Mr. Birch, you will excuse me now; for, really, I must visit my
patient.”
“Very well. I will remain till you return.”
“But I must lock my office.”
“O, no; I will keep office for you till you get back.”
“Really, Mr. Birch, it is after nine o’clock.”
“No matter for that.”
“I was up last night, and must retire as soon as I return.”
“Do you really wish to get rid of me?”
“Certainly not.”
“I think you do.”
“By no means.”
“Are you afraid I shall die of the poison?”
“What poison?”
“The globules.”
“Are they poison?”
“Don’t you think they are?”
“How should I know?”
“You ought to know. I see you object to having me die on your hands.”
“Do you intend to die?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“What do you mean by poison?”
The doctor was ghastly pale. His hands trembled.
“Nothing,” replied Dick.
“You spoke of poison,” stammered the doctor.
“Of course the globules are poison. Why did you object to Julia’s
taking them if they are not.”
“You ought to know best.”
“I do know best, doctor. They are not poison. You need not be alarmed
about me. I shall not die in your office.”
“I am not alarmed about you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Why should I be?”
“Because you think I have taken poison; but I have not.”
“You are a little wild to-night, Mr. Birch.”
“Dr. Lynch, I came down here for the purpose of expressing my mind very
freely to you, and for the purpose of delivering a message with which I
was charged by Mr. Hungerford.”
“I am happy to hear anything you may have to say on your own account,
or Mr. Hungerford’s,” answered the doctor, gasping for breath as he
spoke.
“In the first place, let me speak for myself, and upbraid you for your
criminal carelessness. You left that vial of strychnia globules on the
table in the library, where any one might have taken them, and been
poisoned to death. You deserve to be hanged for a bungler, as you are!
If you wished to poison me, why didn’t you do it without exposing the
lives of others. Why didn’t you take my life like a man, and not render
half a dozen others liable to the fate you prepared for me! Why, you
careless wretch! I came very near giving the poison to Julia. You have
nearly taken her life, instead of mine. It was not my fault. I didn’t
know you had substituted strychnia for belladonna in my vial. The
crime would have been yours, not mine, if she had been sacrificed. Why
didn’t you put the poison into my ice-cream? Why didn’t you invite me
to a banquet of arsenic, strychnia, and hydrocyanic acid? Doctor, you
are a cowardly bungler, worthy the contempt of all decent assassins. I
commend to your attention De Quincey ‘On Murder considered as one of
the Fine Arts.’”
“Mr. Birch, you are sarcastic,” said Dr. Lynch, with a labored grin,
which looked like the sepulchral smile of the staring skull that lay on
a shelf in the office.
“I am nothing, if I am not more than that.”
“Your words insinuate that I have been guilty of something wrong.”
“Do they insinuate it? Don’t they charge it as plainly as words can
express human thought? I say, directly and unequivocally, that you have
attempted to poison me.”
“Mr. Birch!” exclaimed the doctor, springing to his feet, throwing back
his head, and looking as dignified as a trembling man could look.
“I know what you are going to say. Don’t trouble yourself to say it.”
“You accuse me of a crime at which the blood of an honest man creeps
with horror.”
“And for that reason your blood does _not_ creep with horror.”
“Mr. Birch, this is hard and cruel of you.”
“Don’t whine.”
“I speak as an innocent man,” continued the wretch, who, having faced
the full force of the accusation, was now beginning to recover from
the blow. “You charge me with a crime at which my soul revolts. You do
not give me the particulars. You do not furnish me with a particle of
evidence as to what you mean, and you ask me to defend myself.”
“No, I don’t. More than that, I will furnish no particulars, and I will
hear no defence.”
“Mr. Birch, this is very harsh, and very unchristian. I should at least
be told of what I am suspected,” whined the culprit.
“Suspected!” sneered Dick. “You are convicted and condemned.”
“Without being heard?”
“I have a message to deliver to you from Mr. Hungerford.”
“I am ready to hear it.”
“He desires me to say that he positively and imperatively forbids your
coming to Pine Hill again, under any circumstances that can possibly
occur.”
“This is very unjust and cruel,” groaned the doctor. “Without a word
of explanation, without an opportunity to remove any unfavorable
appearance that may be urged against me!”
“Let me add, for myself, that, if you cross the boundary line between
Pine Hill and the public highway, I will take the liberty to kick you
off the premises.”
“I did not expect this from you, Mr. Birch.”
“I have been so criminally indulgent towards you and your crimes that
you had no right to expect it, I confess.”
“I may be called to Pine Hill as a physician.”
“You will never be called there again as a physician. They would all
die before they would see you.”
“Does Julia know of this?”
“She does.”
“And Mrs. Hungerford?”
“And Mrs. Hungerford.”
“Is it possible they can treat me with so much harshness and injustice?”
“They fully concur with Mr. Hungerford and myself. Not one of them
would walk on the same side of the street with you.”
“I am human, and I will not attempt to conceal my grief and
astonishment at the conduct of the Hungerfords.”
“Do you expect them to pet you again, as they did before?”
“When they were sick, even unto death’s door, I dared not sleep. I
watched with Mrs. Hungerford as though she had been my own mother; with
Julia, as though she had been my own sister. I was permitted to be of
service to them. I labored night and day for them, as I would have done
for my own salvation.”
“If you had labored half as hard for your own salvation as you did for
them, you might have been worthy to stand in their presence now. Dr.
Lynch, it was like breaking the heart-strings of Mrs. Hungerford and
Julia to convict you of the intention to commit such an abominable
crime as that you meditated. They were grateful to you for what you
have done: they are so still; and they will remember your good deeds,
and grieve that the evil in your nature overshadowed the good. The blow
is as heavy to them as to you; but they cannot, and will not, tolerate
the presence of a murderer.”
“A murderer, Mr. Birch!”
“I call things by their right names, Dr. Lynch.”
“I can understand your motives,” added the culprit, bitterly. “I have
been a stumbling-block in your path, Mr. Birch, and you adopt this
method of prejudicing Miss Hungerford against me.”
“I have nothing to say, doctor,” added Dick, with dignity.
“I am banished from Pine Hill; but I shall defend myself before the
people, and explain why I am thus treated. This miserable charge which
you have trumped up shall be understood by the community.”
“Am I to infer that you threaten me and others?”
“If there is such a charge as you say, why don’t you take it to a court
of justice?”
“I have nothing more to say about it. I think I have been sufficiently
explicit.”
“But of course you intend to prosecute the matter legally.”
“I shall give no answer. I have discharged my whole duty to you and to
the Hungerfords.”
Dick put on his hat, and left the office, without even the ceremony of
bidding the doctor good night.
“One half million is gone, but the other is safe,” muttered the doctor,
as he rose from his chair half an hour later. “No matter; they can
prove nothing.”