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"And does Mrs. Dallas believe that rubbish?" asked Maurice, incredulously. "Dr. Etwald," said the major, with great calmness and deliberation, "you are a clever and ambitious man, who wishes to make his way in the world, but has hitherto failed to do so for lack of money. To procure money for your experiments in chemistry, you would do anything--even marry a rich woman!" Dido trembled all over, whether from rage or fear Jen could not determine, and opened her mouth to give the lie to her accuser. Then she shut it again, as a heavy step was heard outside the door. A moment later and Mrs. Dallas, with a face expressive of astonishment, was standing on the threshold of the room; and Dido at her feet was making the room resound like a jungle with howlings like those of a wild beast. All the savage nature of the woman was now on the surface, and had broken through the sullen restraint of her impassive demeanor. "What is the meaning of this?" demanded Mrs. Dallas, with an uneasy glance at the frantic negress..
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"Baal! the wand of sleep! the bringer of death!" For the moment Major Jen did not ask any more questions, for the very simple reason that he did not exactly know what course to take. Undoubtedly the tramp was telling the truth. He had no reason to conceal it; for in his own mind Jen quite acquitted him of any complicity in the crime. That so feeble and elderly a creature, debauched by intemperance, weak from insufficient food, should attack a vigorous young athlete like Maurice, was out of the question, even though he had the advantage of possessing the devil-stick. But here the question of the dried-up poison occurred to Jen. If the poison had evaporated by the lapse of time, the devil-stick must have been innocuous and incapable of inflicting death. Therefore, upon the evidence of the saturated handkerchief, the bag concealed in the turquoise-studded handle must have been refilled by Dido!--Dido, for the significant reason that she, inheriting the traditions of her Ashantee grandmother, alone must have been capable of manufacturing the deadly drug. To prove this assumption, a feasible one, the devil-stick was close at hand. "I repeat," she piped, turning to Elinor with a jerky bow, "I repeat my question. Why were you admitted to our class without having worked in any antique or life classes before?" "He's come!" I gasped. "And I'm frightened to death, with nobody but you to run to. Hide me quick! He's large and coarse-looking, and I hate him!". I was that deadly cold you can get when fear runs into your very marrow and congeals the blood in your arteries. "Quick, quick!", I panted..
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