He went on stroking his chin. "The truth is that
when I sent you the pipe I made a slight omission."
"An omission?"
"I omitted to advise you not to smoke it."
"And why?"
"Because--well, I've reason to believe the thing is drugged."
"Drugged!"
"Or poisoned."
"Poisoned!" I was wide awake enough then. I jumped off the couch with a
celerity which proved it.
"It is this way. I became its owner in rather a singular manner." He
paused, as if for me to make a remark; but I was silent. "It is not often
that I smoke a specimen, but, for some reason, I did smoke this. I
commenced to smoke it, that is. How long I continued to smoke it is more
than I can say. It had on me the same peculiar effect which it appears to
have had on you. When I recovered consciousness I was lying on the floor."
"On the floor?"
"On the floor. In about as uncomfortable a position as you can easily
conceive. I was lying face downward, with my legs bent under me. I was
never so surprised in my life as I was when I found myself _where_ I was.
At first I supposed that I had had a stroke. But by degrees it dawned upon
me that I didn't _feel_ as though I had had a stroke." Tress, by the way,
has been an army surgeon. "I was conscious of distinct nausea. Looking
about, I saw the pipe. With me it had fallen on to the floor. I took it
for granted, considering the delicacy of the carving, that the fall had
broken it.
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