Twenty or thirty minutes elapsed before I regained my power of speech.
The drugs administered by Hoefer fortunately had the effect desired.
His sleepy eyes beamed through his great spectacles as he watched with
satisfaction the stimulating consequence of the injection. He dissolved
in water a tiny red tabloid, which he took from a small glass tube in a
case he carried, and ordered me to drink it. This I did, finding it
exceedingly bitter, and wondering what it was.
I asked no questions, however. He was a man who had made many
extraordinary discoveries, all of which he had kept a secret. In the
medical profession he was acknowledged to be one of the greatest living
toxicologists, and his opinions were often sought by the various medical
centres. Indeed, as every medical man knows, the name of Hoefer is
synonymous with all that is occult in the science of toxicology, and the
antidotes he has given to the world, from time to time, are as curious
as they are drastic in effect.
"Have you experienced any strange sensation?" was my first question of
him.
"No, none," he answered. "Ach! it is all very curious--very curious
indeed! I have never before seen similar cases. There is actual _rigor
mortis_. The symptoms so closely resemble death that one might so
easily mistake. We must investigate further. It cannot be that there
is any lethal gas in the room, for the window is wide open; and, again,
while actually in the room no ill effect is felt. It is only on
emerging."
"Yes," I answered. "I was struck almost at the instant I came out. It
was as sudden as an electric shock. I cannot account for it in the
least; can you?"
"No," he answered; "it is a mystery. But I like mysteries; they always
interest me. There is so much to learn that one is constantly making
fresh discoveries."
"Then you will try and solve this?" urged her ladyship, after expressing
satisfaction at my recovery.
"Of course, madam, with your permission," he answered. "It is a complex
case. When we have solved it we shall then know how to treat the young
lady."
"And how do you intend to begin?" I inquired, raising myself, not
without considerable difficulty.
"By going into the room alone," he answered briefly.
"You, too, will risk your life?" I exclaimed. "Is it wise?"
"Research is always wisdom," he responded. Then, finding that I was
recovering rapidly from the seizure, he gave me some technical direction
how to treat him in case he lost consciousness.
He arranged the tiny syringe, and the various drugs and tabloids, upon
the hall table, and then, with a final examination of them, he opened
the door of the fatal room and entered, leaving us standing together on
the threshold.
Walking to the window he looked out, afterwards making several tours of
the room in search of its secret. He, however, found nothing. The air
was pure as London air can be on a summer's night, and, as far as either
of us could discern, there was nothing unusual in the department. The
door swung to halfway, and we heard him growling and grunting within.
He remained in the room for perhaps five minutes, then emerged.
Scarcely, however, had he crossed the threshold when he lifted his left
arm suddenly, crying--
"Ach, Gott! I am seized. The injection--quick!"
His fleshy face went pale, and I saw by its contortions that the left
side had become paralysed. But with a quick movement I pushed up his
coat-sleeve, and ran the needle beneath the skin.
His teeth were closed tightly as he watched me.
"It is almost unaccountable," he gasped in an awed voice, when I had
withdrawn the needle after the injection. "I was cold as ice--just as
though my legs were in a refrigerator!"
"Your feet are benumbed?" I said.
"Yes," he responded. "The sensation is just exactly as you have
described it. Like the touch of an icy hand."