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"Silence, all of you," cried Jen, authoritatively. "We must act, not talk. Two of you take Jaggard to his room. Tell the groom to ride at once to Deanminster for Dr. Etwald and Inspector Arkel. Sampson," he added, turning to the policeman, who was stolidly staring at the empty bed, "rouse yourself. Take lanterns and search for footmarks. There must have been more than one person to carry off a dead body.",

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.,

"I don't feel as if I'd ever want to go to sleep," she said rapturously. "It seems like a glorious dream that we're going to live in this romantic place a whole month. Bruce is a perfect duck to fix it up so we can all be together. I shan't study much here, I feel that in my bones, but I'll have a gorgeous time. How do you feel about it, Judy?",

Arkel spoke too hopefully, for Dido was never caught. She was too clever to give the police a chance of laying hands on her. Like a stone cast into a wide ocean, she disappeared from Deanminster--from England, no doubt, and possessed of the Voodoo stone, possibly took her way back to her native "Ashantee," there to become the high priestess in the horrible fetish worship of Africa.

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"It must be hard on her," acquiesced Patricia. "Why didn't she get something else to do?",

Patricia looked her surprise. "Why, I thought you hadn't started it yet. You said you'd rush it off at the last moment without a bit of trouble.",

"I may be a believer in votes for women," she said solemnly, clasping her vanity case so hard that she unconsciously shattered its clasp. "I may be a yellow suffragist, as Judy calls me, but I must say, men can make things mighty comfortable for you.",

The three people gave a simultaneous cry of amazement and delight, for there, on the threshold of the room, alive and well, stood--Maurice Alymer.