They have the secret; but I never heard of its being used in war, except in the last war, against us. [_He sits up and reaches for the knife, which_ RHEINHARDT _gives_.] Do you see anything that looks like poison?

RHEINHARDT.

Come, come! [_Presses him down in the chair._] If I let you come outside the veranda, you must be content to lie still.--Selim, two pegs lower.

[_Holds up two fingers._] And the cushions. [_To_ ADENE, _as_ SELIM _nods his understanding_.] I never know how much that man understands.

[SELIM _lowers the back of the chair, and rearranges the cushions tenderly and skilfully. A bell is heard, off._

ADENE.

Oh, he understands most things. [_Exit_ SELIM _up_ C.] You see, Carlyon's methods at that time had turned them into perfect fiends!

[RHEINHARDT _looks sharply up_.] Well, infected them, we'll say, with the Carlyon spirit. [RHEINHARDT _continues to look disapprovingly at_ ADENE.] Look here, Rheinhardt, do you think this is a delusion of mine about Carlyon?

RHEINHARDT.

No.

ADENE.

Then why do you look hurt whenever I refer to the things that I know about him?

RHEINHARDT.

Sir Carlyon may be the Devil himself; I have in him no interest. It is only the children of the Devil that I am sorry for.

ADENE.

[_With sudden constraint._] I have never said a word affecting Miss Carlyon.

RHEINHARDT.

Nor thought a word, eh?

ADENE.

I have no material for thinking about her, one way or the other.

_Re-enter_ SELIM _with letters_.

RHEINHARDT.

I will give you material!

SELIM.

[_Interrupting and laying letters on table in front of_ RHEINHARDT.]

Post!

RHEINHARDT.

[_Taking the letters, while_ ADENE _sits up and looks at them_.] No, you do not open your letters yet!

ADENE.

Goodness knows I don't want to; unless there is one from my sister----

RHEINHARDT.

[_Reading the addresses._] "An den Herrn Professor Rheinhardt, M.D., Ph.D." "Dr. Rheinhardt." [_Stopping and looking again._] Ach! no.

"_Miss_ Rheinhardt." It is for my a.s.sistant. [_To_ SELIM.] Here; for the Mem-sahib!

ADENE.

That is Carlyon's handwriting! [_Rises._

[SELIM, _who has just reached the door, turns suddenly and drops the letter with signs of fear_. ADENE _crosses towards him_.

SELIM.

Kal[^y]ona Sahib! [_Stands shrinking from the letter._

RHEINHARDT.

What matters it to you whose letter it is? Take it!

SELIM.

[_In terror, catching_ ADENE'S _arm_.] Ai! ai! Sahib.

[_Draws_ ADENE _into the doorway and whispers to him._

ADENE.

Yes, yes, I know; but don't be afraid. [_To_ RHEINHARDT.] It is no good; he won't touch that letter!

RHEINHARDT.

Won't touch it? Very well, he shall not touch it. [_Takes a plate from among the curiosities on the table and puts letter upon it._] There; take it on this. [_Exit_ SELIM _with plate_.] And you, come back! [ADENE _comes down again to his chair and sits thinking_. RHEINHARDT _continues_.] Gott in Himmel! so long as it does not touch his skin, so long it is all right.

[_Laughing._

ADENE.

Rheinhardt, who _is_ this a.s.sistant of yours, whom I never see?

RHEINHARDT.

Who my a.s.sistant is?--she was a pupil of mine.