In five seconds the room was filled with a most
pungent and sickening stench--a reek that took fierce hold of the
trap of your windpipe and shut it. The powder then hissed and
fizzed, and sent out blue and green sparks, and the smoke rose till
you could neither see, nor breathe, nor gasp. Mellish, however, was
used to it.
"Nitrate of strontia," he shouted; "baryta, bone-meal, etcetera!
Thousand cubic feet smoke per cubic inch. Not a germ could live--
not a germ, Y' Excellency!"
But His Excellency had fled, and was coughing at the foot of the
stairs, while all Peterhoff hummed like a hive. Red Lancers came
in, and the Head Chaprassi, who speaks English, came in, and mace-
bearers came in, and ladies ran downstairs screaming "fire;" for the
smoke was drifting through the house and oozing out of the windows,
and bellying along the verandahs, and wreathing and writhing across
the gardens. No one could enter the room where Mellish was
lecturing on his Fumigatory, till that unspeakable powder had burned
itself out.
Then an Aide-de-Camp, who desired the V.
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