abies. Tenderly he lifted the dog and
carried him to a table near the window, upon which he made a bed with
pillows. He wiped the foam from his lips, and as he did so Lossy
gently protruded his tongue and licked his master's hand. He also
feebly wagged his tail, and endeavored to rise, but his exhausted
condition prevented, and with a groan he dropped back and lay there
crying piteously as a child might do. Leon could not comprehend the
trouble. "What is the matter with him?" he asked himself. "He
certainly was well this morning." As he looked, the foam began to
gather again, as Lossy worked his lips in such a way as to eject the
saliva from his mouth. Suddenly the explanation came to Leon.
"Aconite!" he cried aloud. "Lossy has been poisoned! By whom? Perhaps
he got into the laboratory. But how? How did he get at the poison? Oh!
If I had only remained at home this morning!"

But regrets for the past are ever impotent, and Leon did not waste
much time deploring what had gone before. He quickly procured some
charcoal, and mixing it with milk administered it to his dog. The
foaming ceased, and the beast seemed more comfortable, but it was
questionable whether any permanent benefit would result from the use
of the antidote.

While Leon sat watching his pet, with a growing pain gnawing at his
heart as the conviction thrust itself upon him that the dog would die,
his door opened and Madame Medjora appeared. Coming forward she looked
at Lossy a moment, and then said:

"Do you think that the brute will die?"

"I am afraid that he will," mournfully answered Leon.

"Then why doesn't he die right off," she said. "It is several hours
since I gave him the poison."

"You gave him the poison?" exclaimed Leon, springing up in wrath. "You
poisoned Lossy, and you dare to tell me of it?"

"I dare to tell you? Yes! I dare do anything that woman can do. I am a
descendant of soldiers. The brute ate one of my lace handkerchiefs,
and I was glad of the excuse to be rid of him. There! You know the
truth now, what will you do about it?"

As she uttered the words, Madame drew herself up to the full height of
her commanding figure, and it would have been a daring man who would
have attacked her. But when even feeble men are urged on by rage, they
do deeds which braver men would hesitate to attempt. Utterly bereft of
the restraining faculty of reason, by the information that his pet had
been intentionally destroyed, Leon sprang forward, an