"But what are you talking of?" broke in Jen, impetuously. "You say that my poor boy died from blood-poisoning. How else could he have come by that, save through being touched or struck with the devil-stick? No one in the neighborhood was likely to possess any weapon likely to corrupt the blood. If Maurice had been stabbed, or shot, or if his head had been smashed in, I could understand the crime--or rather the motive for the crime--better; but as it is, the person who stole the devil-stick must have killed him.",
"Go away, girl," he said in his rudest manner; "don't you see I'm busy?",
"Well, my plot has failed, and now I am departing to look anew for a rich wife. Also to find Dido, and get back the Voodoo stone, of which she robbed me. You will never meet me again, and I dare say you won't be sorry to see the back of me. And now, my dear major, I fancy I have told you all, and you know the meaning of the many mysteries which have puzzled you for so long. There remains only to say adieu, and remain your evil genius (now resigned), Max Etwald.".
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