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"That will be difficult." At the same time she was afraid lest further trouble should occur therein, for it seemed to her that Etwald had paid this visit for the express purpose of making himself disagreeable. "Yes, the dead body of Mr. Alymer, which you and Dr. Etwald took to his house at Deanminster. No denial, woman," said Jen, raising his voice, as she was about to speak. "I see by your face that you are guilty.".

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Lastly Etwald. It is difficult to describe the indescribable. He was austere in face, like Dante, with hollow cheeks, and a pallid hue which told of midnight studies. If he had passions, they could not be discerned in his features. Eye and mouth and general expression were like a mask. What actually lay behind that mask no one ever knew, for it was never off. His slightly hollow chest, his lean and nervous hands, and a shock of rather long, curling hair, tossed from a high forehead, gave Etwald the air of a student. But there was something sinister and menacing in his regard. He looked dangerous and more than a trifle uncanny. Physically, mentally, morally he was an enigma to the bovine inhabitants of Deanminster and Hurstleigh. "Miss Dallas, I know no more than you do; but he evidently desires to make a clean breast of this whole miserable business." Frequently the young barrister and the soldier came to visit their guardian, for whom they both cherished a deep affection. On the occasion of each visit Jen was accustomed to celebrate their presence by a small festival, to which he would ask two or three friends. With simple craft, the old man would invite also pretty girls, with their mothers; in the hope that his lads might be lured into matrimony. "Good, Then between twelve and three the body must have been stolen. You are a light sleeper, I heard you say, major?".