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"Where did you find it?" he asked, pointing a trembling finger at the terrible piece of evidence. David retired early to bed, as he was quite worn out with the anxieties of the day; but Jen was too grieved to sleep. He remained in the library, thinking over his great loss and wondering what wretch could have taken that young life. Toward twelve o'clock he went to the kitchen and had a short conversation with the policeman, who was a stupid, bucolic youth with no more brains than a pumpkin. Afterward he sought the chamber of death to see that Jaggard was not sleeping at his post. Finally, like the good old soldier he was, Jen went round the house to satisfy himself that the windows and doors were bolted and barred. All these things done, he returned to the library. "You believe that Dr. Etwald killed Maurice?".
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"—and all these years I have walked the world, blindfolded to its loveliness with the blackness that came to me when I found that you—" "Don't ask me. Uncle Jen; I can't answer you yet." "Good-by," said Jen, and as the door closed behind the doctor he muttered, "and may the devil go with you, for a greater scoundrel does not exist." As he spoke the major unbarred the shutters of the window. The rain had ceased, the dawn was breaking, and the terrible night was at an end..
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