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CHAPTER XV. CROSS-EXAMINATION. "Dido," cried Mrs. Dallas, in a trembling voice, "is this true?" "Yes, Dido!" repeated Jen, firmly. "Jaggard has just informed me that it was Dido who drugged him. Why did she drug him? To steal the body of my poor lad. Why did she steal the body! To conceal the crime committed by Etwald.".

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"Yes," replied Maurice, deliberately. "I suspect Dido, the negress." Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect. "Well, Dido can do nothing," said Maurice, in a jesting tone, "unless you want her to forbid the banns." "All those came from Ashantee and the West Coast of Africa," said he, touching a vicious-looking axe. "This is a sacrificial axe; this murderous looking blade is the sword of the executioner of King Koffee; and this," here he laid his fingers lightly upon a slender stick of green wood, with a golden top set roughly with large turquoise stones, "is a poison-wand!".