Kronberg, with dark,
fascinated eyes glued upon the glittering steel in his jailer's hand,
obeyed.
"Kronberg," said Carl coldly, "there's a lot I want to know. Moreover,
I'm going to know it. Nor shall I trust to drunken jailers as I did a
while back with a certain compatriot of yours. Late last spring when
you sought employment at my cousin's town-house, you were already, I
presume, a link in the chain. If my memory serves me correctly, you
were dismissed after ten days of service, through no fault of your own.
The house was closed for the summer. You came to me again this fall
with a letter of recommendation from Mrs. Westfall. Knowing my aunt,"
reflected Carl dryly, "that is really very humorous. What were you
doing in the meantime?"
Carl shifted the lamp that its pale fan of light might fall full upon
the other's face.
"Let me tell you--do!" said he. "For I'm sure I know. During the
summer, my dear Kronberg, I was the victim of a series of peculiar and
persistent attacks. To a growing habit of unremitting vigilance and
suspicion, I may thank my life. As for the peaceful monotony of the
last nine weeks, doubtless I may attribute that to the constant
companionship of Wherry, the fact that you were much too unpopular with
the Carmodys as a foreigner to find an opportunity of poisoning my
food, and that I've fallen into the discreet and careful habit of
always drinking from a fresh bottle, properly sealed.
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