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"God forbid that my heart should harbor so ill a thought," cried Jen, with natural horror. "But I tell you what, David. We must sift this affair to the bottom. Maurice is dead, his assassin is at large, so we must catch him." Patricia sorted them over rapidly before Elinor had reached the table. "There you have it," cried Arkel, with a nod. "The wound at the back of the head was caused by his falling like a log when he was drugged.".
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"Ah," said Jen, to himself, "I knew that Isabella was speaking falsely. Go on, Jaggard," he added aloud. "Why did you not call out?" "The devil-stick," repeated the tramp, in wide-eyed surprise. "S'elp me, I don't know anything of it. Dr. Etwald met me, and ses he: 'You go to Miss Dallas?' and I ses, 'I does;' and he ses, 'You'll see Dido,' and I ses, 'I will;' and he ses, 'Say to her "Devil-stick,"' an' I ses, 'Right y'are, sir.' But es to knowing--" Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect. "She filled the devil-stick with the poison which was used to kill him," retorted the major, coldly, "and she confesses to having aided him in stealing the body.".
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