"I tell you there is no
danger. Do you take me for a murderer?"
"No; but there might be a mistake."
"There is none. The powder is an opiate; it will harm no one. They will
go to sleep a little earlier, and sleep a little longer and a little
sounder than usual--that is all."
Mrs. Sharpe took the paper, but with evident reluctance.
"I tell you it is all right," reiterated Hugh Ingelow; "no one is to
be murdered but the dogs. Doctor Oleander will have no scruple about
drugging Miss Dane on Friday night, you will see. The choice lies
between her and them. Are you going to fail me at the last, Sarah?"
sternly.
"No," said the woman. She dropped the little package in her pocket, and
looked him firmly in the face. "I'll do it, Mr. Ingelow. And then?"
"And then the dogs will be dead, and the people asleep, before ten
o'clock. At ten I'll be at the gate; a vehicle will be waiting down
below in the clump of cedars. You will open the house door and the
garden gate, and let me in. Before another day we'll be in the city."
"So be it. And now," said Mrs.
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