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All eyes were upon him as he crumpled his napkin into a hard ball and crushed it between his flexible fingers, while his face assumed an earnest and rather anxious expression. David retired early to bed, as he was quite worn out with the anxieties of the day; but Jen was too grieved to sleep. He remained in the library, thinking over his great loss and wondering what wretch could have taken that young life. Toward twelve o'clock he went to the kitchen and had a short conversation with the policeman, who was a stupid, bucolic youth with no more brains than a pumpkin. Afterward he sought the chamber of death to see that Jaggard was not sleeping at his post. Finally, like the good old soldier he was, Jen went round the house to satisfy himself that the windows and doors were bolted and barred. All these things done, he returned to the library. "I know who drugged Jaggard. I have learned who stole the body of Maurice!".
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Patricia caught her breath. "I hope he likes the next one," she said anxiously, whereat Griffin chuckled. "No," said the negress. But while her tongue uttered the denial, her eyes rolled uneasily around the lawn, as though dreading some invisible presence. "No, missy. Dido a great one, you know. She no 'fraid ob dat doctor; but him big man, missy; you marry him." "I knew that, but he didn't. He knows now that we love one another, but he is ignorant that we are engaged. When the fact is publicly announced, he may give up his idea of marrying you, and so a quarrel may be averted." "Please don't forget that that is his possession," I laughed under his chin. "I'm still scared to death of him, and you haven't hid me yet!".
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