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"Listen, then, and I shall explain," resumed the major, with growing excitement. "I firmly believe that Etwald stole the devil-stick, and with it killed Maurice." Patricia joined in David's peal of laughter. "Shades of Hannah Ann defend us!" she cried, gayly. "Don't spring any more bombs like that on us, Infant. We've got to last till lunch time, anyway." Then, suddenly as it had come, the storm passed, trailing dark, yellow-gray, ragged clouds in its wake. The light came back and the awed girls at the little window saw below them in the emerald meadows, wide ugly yellow splotches that grew as they looked, meeting other growing patches of swirling yellow water from the lanes and roads. Trees showed fresh wounds and masses of broken branches clotted the discolored waters of the brook. Birds called excitedly and flew exultantly about in the limpid air. The sun flung gay greens and golds. The storm was past..
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"M. D.!" said the major to himself. "Margaret Dallas, the mother of Isabella. How did her handkerchief come into the room on that night? And the perfume?" She ran hastily into the house, as though to escape further conversation on a distasteful subject, while Dido, with her eyes on the ground, remained in deep thought. The old negress knew that she was placed in a perilous position, which might be rendered even more so should Isabella speak freely. But of this she had little fear, as by her conversation with Major Jen the girl had gone forward on a path of concealment whence there was now no retreat. Yet Dido was not satisfied. She did not trust those around her, and she was uneasy as to what might be the result of Jen's pertinacity in investigating both the death of Maurice and the disappearance of the body. Thus perplexed it occurred to her to seek out and consult with Dr. Etwald. "That we shall see," retorted the major, vexed by the sarcasm, and thereupon gave Etwald to understand by look and manner that he wished to be alone with David. When the doctor had taken himself off, and was walking past the library windows toward the curve of the avenue where it ran into the woods, Jen looked after him with a lowering face, and laid an inquiring finger on David's arm. Dr. John was standing by the table with this horrid small book in his hand, and his mouth was set in a straight line and his eyes were deep back under their brows. I don't like him that way, yet my heart jumped so it was hard to look as meek as I felt it best under the circumstances; but I looked out from under my lashes cautiously..
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