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"Are you going to Kennedy's, Julian?" asked De Vayne.
"No."
"I wish he'd asked you."
Julian a little wondered why he had not, but remembered, with a sigh, that there was _something_, he knew not what, between him and Kennedy.
Yet Kennedy was engaged to Violet! The thought carried him back to the beautiful memories of Grindelwald and Murrem,--perhaps of Eva Kennedy: I will not say.
As De Vayne glanced round at the men a.s.sembled at Kennedy's rooms, he felt a little vexation, and half wished he had not come. Why on earth did Kennedy see so much of these Bruces and Brogtens when he was so thoroughly unlike them? But De Vayne consoled himself with the reflection that the evening could not fail to be pleasant, as Kennedy was there; for he liked Kennedy both for Julian's sake and for his own.
Happily for him he did not know as yet that Kennedy was affianced to Violet Home.
Kennedy sat at the end of the table with a gloomy cloud on his brow.
"Here, De Vayne," he said; "I'm so really glad to see you at last. Sit by me--here's a chair."
De Vayne took the proffered seat, and Bruce immediately seated himself at his left hand. At first, as the wine was pa.s.sed round, there seemed likely to be but little conversation, but suddenly some one started the subject of a "_cause celebre_" which was then filling the papers, and Kennedy began at once to discuss it with some interest with De Vayne, who sat nearly facing him, almost with his back turned to Bruce, who did not seem particularly anxious to attract De Vayne's attention.
"What execrable wash," said Brogten, emptying his gla.s.s.
De Vayne, surprised and disgusted at the rudeness of the remark, turned hastily round, and, while Bruce as hastily withdrew his hand, raised the wine-gla.s.s to his lips.
"Stop, stop, De Vayne," said Bruce eagerly; "there's a fly in your gla.s.s."
"I see no fly," said De Vayne, glancing at it, and immediately draining it, with the intention of saying something to smooth Kennedy's feelings, which he supposed would have been hurt by Brogten's want of common politeness.
"I think it very--" Why did his words fail, and what was the reason of that scared look with which he regarded the blank faces of the other undergraduates? And what is the meaning of that gasp, and the rapid dropping of the head upon the breast, and the deadly pallor that suddenly put out the fair colour in his cheeks? There was no fly--but, good heavens! was there death in the gla.s.s?
The whole party leapt up from their places, and gathered round him.
"What is the matter, De Vayne?" said Kennedy tenderly, as he knelt down and supported the young man in his arms. But there was no answer.
"Here D'Acres, or somebody, for heaven's sake fetch a doctor; he must have been seized with a fit."
"_What have you been doing, Bruce_?" thundered Brogten.
"Bruce doing!" said Kennedy wildly, as he sprang to his feet. "By the G.o.d above us, if I thought this was any of your devilish machinations, I would strike you to the earth!"
"Doing? I?" stammered Bruce. "What do you mean?" He trembled in every limb, and his face was as pale as that of his victim; yet, though perhaps De Vayne's life depended on it, the young wretch would not say what he had done. He had meant but to put four or five drops into his gla.s.s, but De Vayne had turned round suddenly and startled him in the very act, and in the hurried agitation of the moment, his hand had slipped, and he had poured in all the contents of the bottle, with barely time to hurry it empty into his pocket, or to prevent the consequences of what he had done, when De Vayne lifted the gla.s.s to his lips.
The men all stood round De Vayne and Kennedy in a helpless crowd, and Kennedy said, "Here, fetch a doctor, somebody, and let all go except D'Acres; so many are only in the way."
The little group dispersed, and two of them ran off to find a doctor; but Bruce stood there still with open mouth, and a countenance as pale in its horror as that of the fainting viscount. He was anxious to tell the truth about the matter in order to avert worse consequences, and yet he dared not--the words died away upon his lips.
"Don't stand like that, Bruce," said Brogten indignantly, "the least you can do is to make yourself useful. Go and get the key of De Vayne's rooms from the porter's lodge. Stop, though! it will probably be in his pocket. Yes, here it is. Run and unlock his door, while we carry him to bed."
Bruce took the key with trembling hand, and shook so violently with nervous agitation that he could hardly make his way across the court.
The others carried De Vayne to his bedroom as quickly as they could, and anxiously awaited the doctor's arrival. The livid face, with the dry foam upon the lips, filled them with alarm, but they had not any conception what to do, and fancied that De Vayne was in a fit.
It took Dr Masham a very short time to see that his patient was suffering from the influence of some poison, and when he discovered this, he cleared the room, and at once applied the proper remedies. But time had been lost already, and he was the less able to set to work at first from his complete ignorance of what had happened. He sat up all night with his patient, but was more than doubtful whether it was not too late to save his life.
The news that De Vayne had been seized with a fit at Kennedy's rooms soon changed into a darker rumour. Men had not forgotten the affair of Hazlet, and they suspected that some foul play had been practised on one whom all who knew him loved, and whom all, though personally unacquainted with him, heartily respected. That this was really the fact soon ceased to be a secret; but who was guilty, and what had been the manner or motives of the crime remained unknown, and this uncertainty left room for the wildest surmises.
The dons were not slow to hear of what had happened, and they regarded the matter in so serious a light, that they summoned a Seniority for its immediate investigation. Kennedy was obviously the first person of whom to make inquiries, and he told them exactly what had occurred, viz, that De Vayne after drinking a single gla.s.s of wine, fell back in his chair in the condition wherein he still continued. "Was anything the matter with the wine, Mr Kennedy?" asked Mr Norton, who, as one of the tutors, had a seat on the board.
"Nothing, sir; it was the same which we were all drinking."
"And without any bad effects?"
"Yes, sir."
"But, Mr Kennedy, there seems strong reason to believe that some one drugged Lord De Vayne's wine. Were you privy to any such plan?"
"No, sir--not exactly," said Kennedy slowly, and with hesitation.
"Really, sir," said the Master of Saint Werner's, "such an answer is grossly to your discredit. Favour us by being more explicit; what do you mean by 'not exactly'?"
Kennedy's pa.s.sionate and fiery pride, which had recently increased with the troubles and self-reprobation of his life, could ill brook such questioning as this, and he answered haughtily:
"I was not aware that anything of _this_ kind was intended."
"Anything of _this_ kind; you _did_ then expect something to take place?"
"I thought I had taken sufficient precautions against it."
"Against _it_; against _what_?" asked Mr Norton.
Kennedy looked up at his questioner, as though he read in his face the decision as to whether he should speak or not. He would hardly have answered the Master or any of the others, but Mr Norton was his friend, and there was something so manly and n.o.ble about his look and character, that Kennedy was encouraged to proceed, and he said slowly:
"I suspected, sir, that there was some intention of attempting to make De Vayne drunk."
"You suspected that," said Mr Norton with astonishment and scorn, "and yet you lent _your_ rooms for such a purpose. I am ashamed of you, Kennedy; heartily, and utterly ashamed."
Kennedy's spirit was roused by this bitter and public apostrophe. "I lent my rooms for no such purpose; on the contrary, if it existed, I did my best to defeat it."
"What made you suspect it?" asked Dr Rhodes, the Master.
"Because a similar attempt was practised on another."
"At which it seems that you were present?"
"I was not." Kennedy was too fiercely angry to answer in more words than were absolutely required.
"I am sorry to say, Mr Kennedy, you have not cleared yourself from the great disgrace of giving an invitation, though you supposed that it would be made the opportunity for perpetrating an infamous piece of mischief. Can you throw no more light on the subject?"
"None."
"Will you bring the decanter out of which Lord De Vayne drank?" said one of the seniors after a pause, and with an intense belief in the acuteness of the suggestion.
"I don't see what good it will do, but I will order my gyp to carry it here if you wish."