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Inspector Arkel, who could not see one inch beyond his nose, was quite satisfied with this explanation, and nodded in reply. He left the room with the major to seek out Jaggard, and, if possible, to learn from him what had occurred. But this they were unable to do. The man had been stunned by a blow on the head, and was quite insensible. "Why do you hate me. Dido?" "It is a small black pebble of a peculiar shape," explained the girl, "and it was brought from Africa to Barbadoes over a hundred years ago. The negroes believe that a spirit dwells in this stone, and that when it is worshiped the indwelling devil can work woe to those against whom the possessor of the stone bears malice. You can have no idea how this talisman is venerated by all the blacks; they will go miles to look on it, to adore it; they would burn down a city to possess it; to gain it they would murder a hundred human beings. Well, Dr. Etwald was in Barbadoes some years ago, and he gained possession of this Voodoo stone. He has used it while here to intimidate Dido. While he holds it she will not dare to disobey him, and all this plotting and assassination designed to bring about my marriage with Dr. Etwald, has been designed by him, and carried out by Dido, solely on account of his ownership of the Voodoo stone. You know that she calls him the 'great master!' Well--now you can guess the reason for her service worship of this man.".

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"I thought it would," replied Arkel, with a look of satisfaction. "Well, Battersea wondered at the body being put into the carriage--" "If I were there enough to know the different girls, I'd know who it was without much trouble," she declared. Miss Jinny shook her head. "I always was bent on sea-life and I know a lot about it. I can swap tales that'll make them believe I'm the only genuine Sinbad, and I wouldn't miss the chance for a mint," she said conclusively. I hurried all I could, but for long minutes I stood in front of my mirror and questioned myself. Could this slow, pale, dead-eyed, slim, drooping girl be the rollicking girl of a Molly who had looked out of that mirror at me one short week ago? Where were the wings on her heels, the glint in her curls, the laugh on her mouth, and the light in her eyes?.