ar bazaar.
He accumulated a few roubles and installed himself on his own account
at the back of a court in the Aptiekarski-Pereoulok, where he gradually
piled up a heap of old odds and ends that no one wanted even in the
Stchoukine-dvor. But he was happy, because behind his shop he had
installed a little laboratory where he continued for his pleasure his
experiments in alchemy and his study of plants. He still proposed to
write a book that he had already spoken of in France to Rouletabille, to
prove the truth of "Empiric Treatment of Medicinal Herbs, the Science
of Alchemy, and the Ancient Experiments in Sorcery." Between times
he continued to cure anyone who applied to him, and the police in
particular. The police guards protected him and used him. He had
splendid plasters for them after "the scandal," as they called the
October riots. So when the doctors of the quarter tried to prosecute him
for illegal practice, a deputation of police-guards went to Koupriane,
who took the responsibility and discontinued proceedings against him.
They regarded him as under protection of the saints, and Alexis soon
came to be regarded himself as something of a holy man. He never failed
every Christmas and Easter to send his finest images to Rouletabille,
wishing him all prosperity and saying that if ever he came to St.
Petersburg he should be happy to receive him at Aptiekarski-Pereoulok,
where he was established in honest labor. Pere Alexis, like all the true
saints, was a modest man.

When Alexis had recovered a little from his emotion Rouletabille said to
him:

"Pere Alexis, I do bring you poison again, but you have nothing to fear,
for His Excellency the Chief of Police is with me. Here is what we want
you to do. You must tell us what poison these four glasses have held,
and what poison is still in this flask and this little phial."

"What is that little phial?" demanded Koupriane, as he saw Rouletabille
pull a small, stoppered bottle out of his pocket.

The reporter replied, "I have put into this bottle the vodka that was
poured into Natacha's glass and mine and that we barely touched."

"Someone has tried to poison you!" exclaimed Pere Alexis.

"No, not me," replied Rouletabille, in bored fashion. "Don't think about
that. Simply do what I tell you. Then analyze these two napkins, as
well."

And he drew from his coat two soiled napkins.

"Well," said Koupriane, "you have thought of everything."

"They are the napkins th