t she might not have some need
of it yet--after it had already served her so well? Could she be sure, if
she destroyed it, of remembering the instructions which specified the
intervals at which the doses were to be given, the signs which signified
recovery, and the length of time during which the vegetable diet was to
be administered?

She read the first sentences again carefully.

"Antidote to Alexander's Wine. The fatal dose, in case of accident, is
indicated by the notched slip of paper attached to the bottle. Two fluid
drachms of the poison (more than enough to produce death) were
accidentally taken in my experience. So gradual is the deadly effect
that, after a delay of thirty-six hours before my attention was called to
the case, the administration of the antidote proved successful. The doses
are to be repeated----"

The remaining instructions, beginning with this last sentence, were not
of a nature to excite suspicion. Taken by themselves, they might refer to
nothing more remarkable than a remedy in certain cases of illness. First
she thought of cutting off the upper part of the label: but the lines of
the writing were so close together, that they would infallibly betray the
act of mutilation. She opened her dressing-case and took from it a
common-looking little paper-box, purchased at the chemist's, bearing the
ambitious printed title of "Macula Exstinctor, or Destroyer of
Stains"--being an ordinary preparation, in powder, for removing stains
from dresses, ink-stains included. The printed directions stated that the
powder, partially dissolved in water, might also be used to erase written
characters without in any way injuring the paper, otherwise than by
leaving a slight shine on the surface. By these means, Madame Fontaine
removed the first four sentences on the label, and left the writing on it
to begin harmlessly with the instructions for repeating the doses.

"Now I can trust you to refresh my memory without telling tales," she
said to herself, when she put the label back in the chest. As for the
recorded dose of the poison, she was not likely to forget that. It was
her medicine-measuring glass, filled up to the mark of two drachms.
Having locked the cupboard, and secured the key in her pocket, she was
ready for the reception of Jack. Her watch told her that the half-hour's
interval had more than expired. She opened the door of her room. There
was no sign of him outside. She looked over the stairs, and cal