Damn! He had completely forgotten him. If he didn't look out, the fellow would be sure to give the situation away.
"Peter," he called.
Peter elbowed his way through the crowd.
"Your mistress has fainted. Get my flask." Crichton spoke slowly and distinctly and looked Peter commandingly in the eye. Would he understand? Would he hold his tongue? Crichton watched him breathlessly. For a moment Peter blinked at him uncomprehendingly. Then the surprise slowly faded from his face, leaving it as stolid as usual.
"Very well, sir," was all he said as he went off automatically to do his master's bidding. An order has a wonderfully steadying effect on a well-trained servant.
The brandy having been brought, Crichton tried to force a few drops of it between the girl's clenched teeth. After a few minutes, however, he had to abandon the attempt.
The situation was desperate.
The inspector stepped forward.
"Don't you think, sir, you