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"No. Mr. Sarby." All through that long night he knelt beside the bed upon which lay the corpse of the man whom he had loved as a son. The bedroom of Maurice was on the ground floor and the windows looked out onto a little lawn, which was girdled by thick trees in which the nightingales were singing. The sorrowful songs of the birds, flitting in the moonlight and amid the cloistral dusk of the trees, seemed to Jen like a requiem over the young life which had passed away. The major was broken-hearted by the sorrow which had come upon him, and when he issued from the chamber of death he looked years older than when he entered it. It seemed to his big loving heart as though the woman he loved had died anew in the person of her son. "Or her," added the major. "For all I know that black witch may have something to do with the crime. Likely enough, if she knows how to manipulate the devil-stick.".

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To the major's surprise, he found that Jaggard had recovered his senses, and although still weak from his accident and long insensibility, he was able to talk fairly well. Jen was puzzled by this sudden--that is, this comparatively sudden--recovery; and he expressed himself somewhat forcibly to the housemaid Anne, who had been watching for so long by the bedside of the sick man. The woman, with the shrewdness of her class, gave her opinion as to its reason. "No, sir, not till to-day. I don't know what it all means, sir, but I'm sure I know how Dido got into the room." Bruce cocked his head mischievously at her. "Be more explicit, man," he said sternly. "What do you mean by Mrs. Dallas' place? The house or the grounds?".