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"Well, yes," returned Jen, with a thought upon the rapping of Isabella upon the window. "It does not take much to waken me." "Inside the gate," asked Jen, "or outside, on the road?" "But it is quite harmless now," said David, as Jen replaced the wand in its old place on the wall. "Else you wouldn't have it there.".

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Patricia, with her mind wholly on her own absorbing business, gave scant attention. It was a melancholy procession which bore the body up to the house. Four men carried the bier--for it was nothing else since it bore the dead body of a young man--and behind came Major Jen bowed to the ground with sorrow. He could hardly believe that Maurice was dead--that he had perished upon a lonely country road by an unknown hand. But that was the question! Jen began to think the assassin was not unknown; that he had a clew to find the guilty one; and he waited the coming of Dr. Etwald with great impatience to see what his opinion was regarding the course to be pursued. The Leighton house was a big dark pile at the end of the street and the only light visible was in the back room where Patricia knew the struggle against death and disease was being fought out. She paused for a long look and then she ran lightly up the steps and put a shrinking finger on the bell. "Yes. You owe it to me--your second father--to tell the truth. You owe it to your dead brother's memory--for assuredly Maurice was your brother.".