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Judith nodded. "We found it!" she went on, growing more excited as the end approached. "We found it, all in little bits, along with other stuff from Doris' waste basket!",

"Because it is a dangerous thing to handle. Although the poison is dried up, yet there may be enough in it to kill a man. If I parted with it and anyone was injured by it I should never forgive myself. Pray put it up, Maurice; I dislike to see you touch it. To-night, after dinner, I shall lock it up in a safe place. David is right; it should not be on the wall there.",

The room was very dark at first, and little whispers ran all about in the gloom. There was a rustling and shuffling and a sound of hurried, muffled steps. Patricia, from her hiding place behind the door screen, could make out nothing but the dim oblong of the transom above her head and the long pale mass of the skylight.,

"Ho! ho!" murmured Maurice, rather taken back. "So the art of devil-raising is not a lost one after all. Dido can still call spirits from the vasty deep."

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The public prosecutor thought that the interruption of his learned friend was out of place; as the refusal of Mrs. Dallas--"mother, gentlemen of the jury, to the young lady engaged to the deceased gentleman, Mr. Maurice Alymer"--had nothing to do with the actual facts of the case. The prisoner, seeing that while Mr. Alymer lived, he could never marry Miss Dallas, determined to rid himself of a rival. The prisoner had been in Barbadoes, and while there he had learned many things concerning African witchcraft, and had become possessor of the Voodoo stone, a talisman which the black race held in peculiar reverence. On his return to England the prisoner had become acquainted with Mrs. Dallas, with the daughter, whom he designed to marry, and with a negress called Dido, the servant of the aforesaid Mrs. Dallas. By means of the Voodoo stone, the prisoner made an absolute slave of the negress, and could command her services at any time, even to the extent of crime.,

"Why don't you do something?" cried Patricia again. "Why don't you tell him? Griffin, it wasn't true—that she copied it! You know she'd not do a thing like that!",

She tiptoed softly in to Elinor, who was sleeping quietly, and she stood looking down at the sweep of eyelash and rounded cheek that the low-turned light caught out from the jumbled masses of dark hair.,

"There isn't any table—" she had begun, still with slight protest in her voice, when Bruce ushered them up the narrow vertical stair to the larger room above where more tables and windows made a cozy dining place for about a dozen people.