“Did you take it?” she asked, and her voice was full of eager, intense fright.  “Ruth, you didn’t take it!”

“Yes, I did, of course.  What is the matter with you?”

“It was the wrong bottle.  It was the liniment bottle in my satchel.  I forgot.  Oh, Ruth, Ruth, what will we do?  It is a deadly poison.”

Then to have realized the scene that followed you should have been there to sea.  Ruth gave one loud shriek that seemed to re-echo through the trees, and Eurie’s moan was hardly less terrible.  Marion sprang out of bed, and was alert and alive in a moment.

“Ruth, lie down; Eurie, stop groaning and act.  What was it?  Tell me this instant.”

“Oh, I don’t know what it was, only he said that ten drops would kill a person, and she took a tea-spoonful.”

“I know where the doctor’s cottage is,” said Flossy, dressing rapidly.  “I can go for him.”  And almost as soon as the words were spoken she had slipped out into the darkness.

Ruth had obeyed the imperative command of Marion and laid herself on the bed.  She was deadly pale, and Eurie, who felt eagerly for her pulse, felt in vain.  Whether it was gone, or whether her excitement was too great to find it, she did not know.  Meantime, Marion fumbled in Flossy’s trunk and came toward them with a bottle.

“Hold the light, Eurie; this is Flossy’s hair-oil.  I happen to know that it is harmless, and oil is an antidote for half the poisons in the world.  Ruth, swallow this and keep up courage; we will save you.”

Down went the horrid spoonful, and Marion was eagerly at work chafing her limbs and rubbing her hands, hurrying Eurie meantime who had started for the hotel in search of help and hot water.

That dreadful fifteen minutes!  Not one of them but that thought it was hours.  They never forgot the time when they fought so courageously, and yet so hopelessly, with death.  Ruth did not seem to grow worse, but she looked ghastly enough for death to have claimed her for his victim; and Flossy did not return.  Eurie came back to report a fire made and water heating, and seizing a pail was about to start again, when her eye caught the open satchel, and a bottle quietly reposing there, closely corked and tied over the top with a bit of kid; she gave a scream as loud as the first had been.

“What is the matter now?” Marion said.  “Eurie, do have a little common sense.”

“She didn’t take it!” burst forth Eurie.  “It is all a mistake.  It was the right bottle.  Here is the other, corked, just as I put it.”

Before this sentence was half concluded Ruth was sitting up in bed, and Marion, utterly overcome by this sudden revulsion of feeling, was crying hysterically.  There is no use in trying to picture the rest of that excitement.  Suffice it to say that the events of the next hour are not likely to be forgotten by those who were connected with them.  Eurie came back to her senses first, and met and explained to the people who had heard the alarm, and were eagerly gathering with offers of help.  There was much talk, and many exclamations of thankfulness and much laughter, and at last everything was growing quiet again.