-day the prince was to take the potion at four or five
o'clock in the afternoon--and fall into a deep sleep--the doctor to grow
uneasy, and stop the carriage--to declare that it would be dangerous to
continue the journey--to pass the night at an inn, and keep close watch
over the prince, whose stupor was only, to cease when it suited your
purposes. That was your design--it was cleverly planned--I chose to make
use of it myself, and I have succeeded."

"All that you are talking about, my dear sir," said Rodin, biting his
nails, "is pure Hebrew to me."

"No doubt, because of my accent. But tell me, have you heard speak of
array--mow?"

"No."

"Your loss! It is an admirable production of the Island of Java, so
fertile in poisons."

"What is that to me?" said Rodin, in a sharp voice, but hardly able to
dissemble his growing anxiety.

"It concerns you nearly. We sons of Bowanee have a horror of shedding
blood," resumed Faringhea; "to pass the cord round the neck of our
victims, we wait till they are asleep. When their sleep is not deep
enough, we know how to make it deeper. We are skillful at our work; the
serpent is not more cunning, or the lion more valiant, Djalma himself
bears our mark. The array-mow is an impalpable powder, and, by letting
the sleeper inhale a few grains of it, or by mixing it with the tobacco
to be smoked by a waking man, we can throw our victim into a stupor,
from which nothing will rouse him. If we fear to administer too strong a
dose at once, we let the sleeper inhale a little at different times, and
we can thus prolong the trance at pleasure, and without any danger,
as long as a man does not require meat and drink--say, thirty or
forty hours. You see, that opium is mere trash compared to this divine
narcotic. I had brought some of this with me from Java--as a mere
curiosity, you know--without forgetting the counter poison."

"Oh! there is a counter-poison, then?" said Rodin, mechanically.

"Just as there are people quite contrary to what we are, brother of
the good work. The Javanese call the juice of this root tooboe; it
dissipates the stupor caused by the array-mow, as the sun disperses the
clouds. Now, yesterday evening, being certain of the projects of your
emissary against Djalma, I waited till the doctor was in bed and
asleep. I crept into his room, and made him inhale such a dose of
array-mow--that he is probably sleeping still."

"Miscreant!" cried Rodin, more and more alarmed by