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"After!" replied Isabella, with some hesitation; then abruptly left the major's side to exchange a few words with Dido. Jen, as was natural, looked after her with a glance full of doubt and suspicion. Notwithstanding her love for Maurice and her expressed desire to avenge his death by hunting down the assassin, she appeared to be anything but frank in the matter. In plain words, her conduct suggested to Jen's mind an idea that she knew more than she cared to talk about; and that such half-hinted knowledge implicated her mother. In which case--but here Dido interrupted Jen's meditations.,

"I think it would be perfectly glorious," she said gratefully. "It's wonderful that you should bother with us. I can't thank you——",

"Do you wish to order, sir?",

"Mrs. Shelly wants me to come with Miss Jinny and stay over Sunday. Please, please let me go, Elinor, for she says she'll get out all her old stories and letters, and we'll have a splendid time!"

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Counsel for the prosecution accepted the correction of his learned friend, and withdrew the obnoxious word crime--if not altogether, at all events for the time being. He would resume his explanation of the case. Major Jen, the adopted father of the deceased, possessed a barbaric curiosity called by civilized people the devil-stick; by barbarians the wand of sleep. This he had obtained from Ashantee, where it was used to kill people inimical to the king by the injection of poison. There was no need to describe the devil-stick, as it was on the table, and would be shown to the jury. This devil-stick--,

"God knows!" stammered Jen, turning his horrified gaze on the poor girl. He did not know what to do. Isabella was in a dangerous state of hysteria. She had on but a loose white dressing-gown, and her presence in the house at three o'clock in the morning was enough to overpower Jen's sense of the reasonable, independent of the crowning horror of the missing corpse. At this juncture the much-needed aid came from without. David Sarby rushed into the room.,

Etwald said nothing. With his eyes fixed upon the devil-stick, he meditated deeply. The barrister, whose belief was that Etwald knew more about the wand than he chose to say, watched him closely. He noticed that the doctor eyed the stick, then, after a pause, let his gaze wander to the face of Maurice. Another pause, and he was looking at David, who received the fire of this strange man's eyes without blanching.,

"That's your 'sensitive, artistic temperament,' as Mrs. Hand calls it. It must be awfully trying, though, not to be able to babble when you're pleased. It's such a relief to get it out of your system. I'd simply burst if I tried to keep quiet when I felt excited."