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Just as Jen ended his speech and Mrs. Dallas was about to reply, the door opened to admit--Dr. Etwald. Both the major and the Creole stared at him in surprise, as neither for the moment could grasp the idea that he had been bold enough to present himself before those whom he had so deeply wronged. "The devil-stick, by heaven!" he said aloud. Judith, who had muffled the sparkling stream of Patricia's nonsense, drew her hand away with a little squeal..

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The counsel for the crown thanked his learned friend for the admission, and would continue. The devil-stick was stolen by Mrs. Dallas, who committed the theft under the hypnotic influence of the negress Dido. By the direction of Dr. Etwald, Dido refilled the stick with fresh poison, being enabled to manufacture the same from a recipe of her grandmother's--said grandmother having come from Ashantee, where the stick--the devil-stick, be it understood--had been constructed and used. She had given this terrible weapon to the prisoner, who with it had killed Mr. Alymer, his rival. "Certainly not," interrupted Arkel, sharply. "I can prove nothing. I am quite puzzled." Patricia reluctantly released her and she slipped away to her own table with Madalon Halden, Tom Hughes, and little Jack Grantly, a nephew of the sculptor, who had been invited specially for Judith's sake, and who was promptly set down by that discriminating young person as being much too young for the high post of companion to her. "I'm not really sick," she said, in a faint tone, as Patricia cuddled down on the floor beside her and took the chilly hand in her warm one. "I have one of my old headaches. I forgot to get any lunch. I had just put the key in my locker, when everything grew black and I'd have collapsed if Doris Leighton hadn't helped me to a chair. She gave me some milk and got my things for me, and when I felt well enough, she came over here with me. She's certainly the sweetest thing. She had to miss getting her criticism, too. Mr. Benton had just gone in when I crumpled up.".