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"Does my face remind you of anyone?" he demanded rather sharply.,
CHAPTER VIII SMOOTH WATERS,
Maurice, whose nerves were proof against such fantasies, laughed disbelievingly.,
"Yes. I know something, but what it is I dare not tell you now, Uncle Jen," he added, gravely looking at the elder. "If you are wise, you will not pursue your inquiry."
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"I don't know anything about the devil-stick. I never saw it; but with regard to the perfume I can explain. I was ill on that night, as you know, and Dido applied some of her negro remedies; among them the perfume with which that handkerchief of my mother's was saturated. It was bound across my forehead to soothe the nerves. During my journey to your house I snatched it off, and--",
An expression of surprise appeared on the pale face of the younger man.,
"I got my criticism! And he said the work was good! Now I can write to Bruce," and her voice rang with a thrilling note of joy that carried Patricia with her.,
"But you know Mrs. Carson always wanted him to take his own name if he ever found it," said Elinor, closing her locker and dropping the key into her bag.
When the major had seen her carriage drive away he returned to look after the devil-stick, and examined it long and carefully. Undoubtedly it had been filled with fresh poison, and undoubtedly the poison, from the evidence heretofore set forth, had been prepared by Dido. Jen was more certain than ever that Etwald and the negress had stolen the devil-stick and had slain Maurice with it. But the theft of the body! It was that which puzzled him. He could understand why Etwald wanted Maurice removed from his path. He could explain, on those grounds, why the devil-stick had been stolen. But what reason could the pair have for the removal of the body? The poor boy had died, and his corpse could be of no use to those who had murdered him. Yet it had disappeared, and the only person who could give any evidence as to who had entered the room on that fatal night was Jaggard. But up to the present moment Jaggard had remained incapable of giving any clear evidence. Absolutely certain that Etwald was guilty, that Dido was an accomplice, Jen could not see his way to proving his case without the assistance of Jaggard.
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"Why?" said Etwald, with an agreeable smile. "There are two opinions about that. Mine is that I shall go free. Then," he added, coolly, "I intend to seek Barbadoes and search for that black witch in order to recover the Voodoo stone."
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It’s a Quan-Yuan
Outside, the peaceful landscape was filled with a warm amber light, and this poured into the oak-paneled dining-room through three French windows which opened onto a close-shaven lawn. Dinner was at an end; Jaggard, the major's valet, butler and general factotum, had placed the wines before his master, and was now handing around cigars and cigarettes. All being concluded to his satisfaction--no easy attainment, for Jaggard, trained in military fashion, was very precise--he departed, closing the door after him. The warm light of the evening flashed on the polished table--Major Jen was sufficiently old-fashioned to have the cloth removed for desert--and lighted up the four faces around it with pale splendor. This quartette of countenances is not unworthy of a detailed description.
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"He expected to be married last fall, but there was a hitch in getting out his book," said Mr. Hilton, as he finished his salad. "So he couldn't get away till last month."
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Halin-Chen Response,
>"Your own conscience!" he repeated, in disdain. "How can you talk in that manner? What excuse can you--"
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