ry proper
I will read from my notes.

"'De Quincey was right, and murder should be a fine art. But the
Borgias--only amateurs! The far-famed Aqua Tofana--pooh! Any chemist
will put it up for ten cents. Only be careful how you use it. Chemical
analysis has advanced somewhat since the day of the divine Lucrezia,
and a jury would convict without leaving their seats.'

"'Rather rough on your business, I should think,' said Estes, speaking
somewhat thickly, for the port had stopped with him overfrequently of
late. 'Is poisoning really out of date?' he continued.

"'As absolutely as crinoline and the novels of G. P. R. James,'
answered our host, lightly. But I, who was watching him closely, saw
his eyes harden. Estes had said more than one imprudent thing that
evening, and this time he had gone too far. I would have to get the boy
away somehow.

"There were three of us dining with Balencourt that evening at his
chambers in the Argyle--Estes, Crawfurd, and myself; and as usual we
had had an excellent dinner, for Balencourt knew how to live. Who was
Balencourt? Well, nobody could answer that precisely, but his letters
of introduction had been unexceptionable and his checks were always
honored at Brown Brothers. Moreover, Crawfurd had met him frequently at
the Jockey Club in Paris, and there was his name on White's books for
any one to read. A man of forty-five perhaps, clean-shaven, well set
up, an inveterate globe-trotter, a prince among raconteurs, and the
most astounding polyglot I have ever met. I myself have heard him talk
Eskimo with one of Peary's natives, and he had collated some of his
researches into Iranic-Turanian root-forms for the Philological
Society. But let us go back to our walnuts.

"Crawfurd picked up the thread. 'Then the science of assassination is a
lost art,' he said, tentatively.

"'Oh, I did not say that,' replied Balencourt, carelessly. 'There are
other ways--better ones.'

"'You mean beyond the risk of detection?'

"'Perfectly.'

"'Eliminating the toxic poisons of all kinds?'

"'If you like.'

"'I doubt it.' said Crawfurd, with a little hesitation.

"'And I deny it,' interrupted Estes, rudely, and stared straight at
Balencourt. A quick glance answered his challenge; it was like the
engaging of rapiers.

"'Perhaps Mr. Estes desires proof,' said Balencourt, slowly.

"'I do.'

"'Let us say between--'

"'To-night and the 1st of August.'

"'That will suit me perfectly. My passage i