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CHAPTER XIII. ISABELLA. "Don't make a show of me, Miss Pat," she commanded reproachfully. "It isn't correct to show that you are so delighted." She knew very well what it was, for her grandmother had been carried off as a slave from the west coast of Africa, and knew all about Ashantee sorcery and fetish rites. These she had repeated to her granddaughter Dido, with the result that Dido, cherishing these recollections, knew exactly how to use the wand of sleep. She had spoken about it to Dr. Etwald, quite ignorant that Jen kept one as a curiosity, and now Etwald had intimated through Battersea that he wished her to do something in connection with the stick. What that something might be Dido at the present moment could not guess..

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"Dearest, you must not be afraid," said he, glancing down anxiously at her face. "You must throw off the terror you have of this woman. If the law--" "Oh, it isn't fair—" she broke out, but the words that boomed so loudly in her ears were only a faint whisper, and she staggered blindly for a moment. Jen started. Evidently David had returned before him in order to see Etwald, and to gain private speech with the doctor, had conducted him to Jaggard's sick-room. For the moment Jen--still suspicious of Sarby's behavior--had it in his mind to follow; but a few minutes of reflection convinced him that this was unnecessary. David did not know all the conversation which had taken place between himself and Isabella, therefore he could inform Etwald of nothing new. But, indeed, the major wondered why David wished to speak privately with the doctor. It looked, to his mind, as though the two men were in league. Patricia had an uneasy sense of insincerity in the light tone, but a swift glance into the wide eyes of the smiling Doris reassured her..