to the window. He wished that Strause would leave him. Strause, however, had no intention of doing so.
"There's something I want to say to you," he remarked now, pulling a chair forward, dropping into it, and lowering his voice. "I did not like to tell you before. At present the fact is known only to myself. Whether it goes further remains with you."
"What do you mean?"
"I will explain. Keith, an ugly thing happened in connection with Percy Aylmer's death."
Keith drew himself up very stiffly. He looked full at the major.
"I don't understand you," he said.
"You will soon, if you listen. Of course it was an accident, and a deplorable one, but you, Keith, gave that poor lad the wrong medicine."
"Oh, horror!" cried Keith. He sprang to his feet. A terrible weakness seized him; his head seemed to go round; he clutched a chair to keep himself from falling. "What do you mean?" he added.
"What I say," answered Strause, who read these signs of agitation with pleasure. "It happens that I am in a position to prove my words. You know I was nursing Aylmer all day until you arrived and interfered. Your interference was unwarrantable; but I say nothing of that. I had been giving Aylmer his medicines, and happened to know exactly the amount in each bottle. The alterative medicine, as it is called, had just been renewed, but the bottle containing the opiate was more than half full. The opiate was in the smaller bottle, as you know. The alterative medicine was to be given in tablespoonfuls – two tablespoonfuls to a dose. At the time I gave up my charge of Aylmer to you there were in the larger bottle five doses, but the bottle which contained the opiate was a little less than half full. Do you follow me?"
"I hear you, but I cannot imagine what you are driving at."
"You will soon know. On the morning of the death you were terribly agitated. I rushed off to the poor lad's quarters when I heard the news, and found that you had left, saying that you would be round again presently. I went to the table where the medicines stood, and casually took up the bottle which contained the opiate. The moment I saw it I opened my eyes. The bottle was very nearly empty! Even allowing for your giving him a teaspoonful at a time, it was absolutely impossible that he could have taken anything like the amount which was now gone. I then looked at the other bottle, and found that only one teaspoonful had been taken from it since you had charge of the case. You follow me, don't you? In the bottle which contained the alterative medicine there were still four doses; in the bottle which contained the opiate there was not more than a teaspoonful left. Beyond doubt what happened was this: you gave Aylmer, quite by mistake, two tablespoonfuls of the opiate – a dose which of course caused his death."
"You lie!" said Keith. "How dare you come to this room with that trumped-up story? I did not make a mistake with regard to the medicines. I was most careful, and I am prepared to swear in any court that I took two tablespoonfuls of the alterative medicine, which was in the larger bottle, and brought it to Aylmer between nine and ten o'clock that night."
"Swear it, then," said Strause, in a contemptuous voice, with a sneer on his lips, and a malicious light in his eyes which caused Keith to recoil from him as though he were a serpent – "swear it, and go right through with the whole thing. I have the bottles in my possession, and although there are no witnesses on either side, believe me it will be at best a nasty case for you. You were alone with the sick man – you gave him a fatal dose of the wrong medicine – you were remembered in the poor fellow's will to the somewhat unusual tune of ten thousand pounds. My fine fellow, you are in my power. Even supposing the murder is never brought home to you, your career as an officer in the North Essex Light Infantry is over."
As Strause said the last words he left the room, swaggering out with his usual gait.
Keith sank into a chair and pressed both his hands to his throbbing temples. Was this true?
CHAPTER VI.
A TRYING POSITION
When he had first got over his start of dismay, Gavon Keith's impulse was to defy Strause. He fully believed that the story was invented by Strause for his own purpose, and that poor Aylmer had not been given the wrong medicine. For what ends Strause should bring such a horrible accusation against him Keith could not at that moment guess. He thought matters over, however, with all the common-sense of which he was capable; and that evening, although he still felt weak and giddy, he went to see Major Strause at his quarters, and found that officer within.
"Ah," said Strause, "I thought you might call round. Well, what do you intend to do?"
"Nothing," replied Keith.
"You sit down under the accusation?"
Keith turned first red, then white.
"I do nothing of the sort," he said. "I deny your charge absolutely. I did not give the wrong medicine. I was particularly careful with regard to the medicines. It is true that poor Aylmer disliked the light – I therefore kept his sick-room in comparative darkness; but on the two occasions when I gave him medicines on that fatal night I took the bottles into the sitting-room. Between ten and eleven o'clock, as he was in considerable pain, I gave him a teaspoonful of the opiate. I distinctly recall the bottle and the words, 'One teaspoonful per dose.' He took it, and said it did him no good. He wanted me to give him a larger dose. This I refused. Soon afterwards the hour arrived when he was to take the other medicine. I took that bottle also into the sitting-room, and by the light from a gas jet poured out two tablespoonfuls – no more and no less. I brought the medicine back with me, and he drank it off. He seemed to find relief as he did so, and dropped off asleep immediately. What are you sneering at?"
"You give yourself away so splendidly," said Strause. "Aylmer would naturally feel relief from such a powerful opiate as you administered."
"I did not administer the opiate. I gave him two tablespoonfuls from the other bottle. It is, I suppose, within the region of possibility that the medicines may have been shifted into wrong bottles. For that I am not responsible. You will recollect, perhaps, the fact that you visited Aylmer in his room soon after nine o'clock that evening. You were there for a couple of minutes, and came out afterwards, telling me that he was asleep. I noted that you were quite two minutes in the room, by the little clock on the mantelpiece. I also observed that you walked about softly while there. If you bring this charge against me, I can but repeat what happened."
"And who will believe your word? you have no witnesses."
"Nor have you."
"I hold the bottles," said Strause, with another sneer.
Keith was silent for a minute or two.
"I see nothing for it," he said, "but to try and get an order to have the body exhumed, and thus have the case properly sifted."
Strause uttered an uneasy laugh. He walked to the window and looked out. Then he returned to Keith.
"You do not know, perhaps," he said, "that the effects of opium are very short-lived, and that long before now all traces of opium would have left the poor fellow's body."
"Let the case be brought openly to trial," was Keith's next remark.
"What! you would have yourself ruined, if not worse?"
"I would rather risk anything than put myself in your power."
As Keith spoke he rose and left the room without even saying good-bye to Strause. All that night he kept to his resolve to sift the matter thoroughly, and then repeated to himself,
