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"They killed Maurice!" Patricia gazed approvingly at the dim, shadowy study of graceful figures grouped in attentive attitudes about a reader in a landscape of suggested loveliness that spoke to any observer with delicate symbolism. A tall dark-haired youth in a gray suit and overcoat, who had been standing with his back to them a short distance away, turned and showed a pleasant, homely face with two very lively eyes and a wide, firm mouth..

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With the utmost coolness he entered the room and sat down in a chair near Arkel. The inspector, with his hand in his breast-pocket, fingered the warrant, but did not deem it wise to execute it until he had heard what proof the major possessed against Etwald for the murder of Maurice Alymer. David sat down near the door, and followed every movement of the scene which ensued with keen eyes. Thus, three of the occupants of the room were seated--Sarby, Arkel, and Etwald. Only one man stood up--Major Jen--and he stood as the accuser. On the morrow the post-mortem examination was to take place, and the inspector of police at Deanminster had left a man in the house to look after the interests of justice. As yet the inspector--no very gifted man at the most--was doubtful of the proper course to pursue. A crime had been committed; the victim was a well-known gentleman; so here, if anywhere, was a chance of his covering himself with glory by discovering the assassin. But Arkel--the inspector in question--had only experience in bucolic crimes of the rick-burning order, or, at the worst, the poker murders of laborers. The subtlety with which this deed had been accomplished baffled him. He could not grasp the idea of the devil-stick, or even take in the mode of the death. If Arkel were to be the avenger of Alymer's death the assassin ran an excellent chance of getting off scot free. "No, but Dr. Etwald was." "One moment, Miss Dallas. What influence has Etwald over the negress?".