He had not been surprised by her

death. He had called in another doctor

shortly before her death and the other

doctor had realised the gravity of her condition.

Tentatively I brought forward the

suggestion of exhumation . . . Nurse

Harrison was at first frightened out of her

98

wits by the idea. Then, almost at once,

her jealousy and hatred took command of

her. Let them find arsenic — no suspicion

would attach to her. It would be the doctor

and Jean Moncrieffe who would suffer.

"There was only one hope. To make

Nurse Harrison overreach herself. If there

were a chance that Jean Moncrieffe would

escape, I fancied that Nurse Harrison

would strain every nerve to involve her in

the crime. I gave instructions to my faithful

Georges — the most unobtrusive of men

whom she did not know by sight. He was

to follow her closely. And so — all ended

well."

Jean Moncrieffe said:

You've been wonder ful."

Dr. Oldfield chimed in. He said:

"Yes, indeed. I can never thank you

enough. What a blind fool I was!"

Poirot asked curiously:

"Were you as blind. Mademoiselle ?"

Jean Moncrieffe said slowly:

"I have been terribly worried. You see,

the arsenic in the poison cupboard didn't

tally. . . ."

Oldfield cried:

"Jean — you didn't think — ?"

99

"No, no --not you. What I did think

was that Mrs. Oldfield had somehow or

other got hold of it --and that she was

taking it so as to make herself ill and get

sympathy and that she had inadvertently

taken too much. But I was afraid that if

there was an autopsy and arsenic was

found, they would never consider that

theory and would leap to the conclusion

that you'd done it. That's why I never said

anything about the missing arsenic. I

even cooked the poison book! But the last

person I would ever have suspected was

Nurse Harrison."

Oldfield said:

"I too. She was such a gentle womanly

creature. Like a Madonna."

Poirot said sadly:

'Tes, she would have made, probably, a good wife and mother. . . . Her emotions were just a little too strong for her." He

sighed and murmured once more under

his breath:

"The pity of it."

Then he smiled at the happy-looking

middle-aged man and the eager-faced

girl opposite him. He said to himself:

100

^These two have come out of its

shadow into the sun . . . and I — I have

performed the second Labour of Hercules."

101

3

THE ARCADIAN DEER

ERCULE POIROT stamped his

feet, seeking to warm them. He

blew upon his fingers. Flakes of

snow melted and dripped from the corners

of his moustache.

H

There was a knock at the door and a

chambermaid appeared. She was a slowbreathing

thickset country girl and she

stared with a good deal of curiosity at

Hercule Poirot. It was possible that she

had never seen anything quite like him

before.

She asked: "Did you ring ?"