"I know what she wants," added she. "I
will take it with me. I am safe in trusting her with the secret of
Beatrice Spara. That girl is worthy of it as Brinvilliers herself."
La Corriveau entered her own apartment. She locked the door behind
her, drew a bunch of keys from her bosom, and turned towards a
cabinet of singular shape and Italian workmanship which stood in a
corner of the apartment. It was an antique piece of furniture, made
of some dark oriental wood, carved over with fantastic figures from
Etruscan designs by the cunning hand of an old Italian workman, who
knew well how to make secret drawers and invisible concealments for
things dangerous and forbidden.
It had once belonged to Antonio Exili, who had caused it to be made,
ostensibly for the safe-keeping of his cabalistic formulas and
alchemic preparations, when searching for the philosopher's stone
and the elixir of life, really for the concealment of the subtle
drugs out of which his alembics distilled the aqua tofana and his
crucibles prepared the poudre de succession.
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