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Some women like to collect men's hearts and hide them away from other women on cold storage, and the helpless things can't help themselves. "Why Mrs. Dallas wants Isabella to marry David." Not another word would the major say on the subject at that moment, so Maurice was forced to seek his room in a very unsatisfied frame of mind. However, as he thought, here was one mystery about to be explained, and that was a comfort. As Jen prophesied, David did not return to dinner, and Maurice had a tête-à-tête with his guardian. But they talked of indifferent things, and it was not until they were once more in the smoking-room with cigars and coffee that the major consented to speak on the subject of Mrs. Dallas' strange conduct. "The groun's, near the gate.".

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He bent down to replace the bedclothes which the sick man had thrown off, and as he did so, a faint perfume, sickly and rich, struck his nostrils. It seemed to come from the bandages at the back of the head, and on bending down for a closer inspection, Jen saw that one of these--it was the merest corner which peeped out--was of finer linen than the rest. The fabric was cambric, and with a start which made the blood turn to ice in his veins, Jen realized that it was a woman's handkerchief--its delicacy and border-embroideries assured him of this. Angered by the selfish way in which David had acted, Jen did not communicate his discoveries to the young man. During the night he took counsel with himself, and the next morning he acted upon the plans which he had formed. These were, to see Dido and force the truth from her, to send Battersea to Deanminster to fetch both Arkel and Dr. Etwald to "Ashantee," and finally to communicate his discoveries to the inspector and get him to arrest Etwald. Once in prison, and the doctor, intimidated by a fear of death at the hands of justice, might confess his crimes, and his reasons for committing them. This straightforward course was the only one to pursue. "I can't say. I haven't examined him. Stunned or drugged, I suppose." "Oh, missy! missy!" wept the negress, getting onto her feet. "It all am a lie, what dat massa say. Poo' ole Dido know nuffin'--do nuffin'. Lordy! Lordy! de big lie.".