This discovery at once irritated, amazed and the major. That the handkerchief of Mrs. Dallas should be bound around the head of Jaggard was strange, but that it should be perfumed with the deadly which impregnated the devil-stick was stranger still. Had Mrs. Dallas found the wand of sleep? Had Mrs. Dallas perfumed the handkerchief with its cruel poison? Had Mrs. Dallas drugged or stupefied Jaggard on that fatal night by means of that handkerchief? These were the vital questions which presented themselves to the puzzled major, and which he found himself unable to answer.  
And here, at this point, the personality of Dr. Etwald itself into the affair. It was Etwald who had bound up the wound with the handkerchief in question, and who, according to the housemaid, had forbidden its removal. The question was, had he received it from Mrs. Dallas, or had he found it on that night by the side of the insensible man. If the first, Mrs. Dallas must have perfumed it designedly with the poison, and Etwald, knowing that it was so impregnated, must have used it advisedly as a bandage. If the second, Mrs. Dallas must have been in the room on the night in question, and have used the handkerchief to render Jaggard insensible. And in either case, as the major very sensibly concluded, Mrs. Dallas must be in possession of the devil-stick. Otherwise, how could she have obtained the deadly scent?
 
"And the plain conclusion of the whole affair," soliloquized Jen, "is that Mrs. Dallas must have stolen the devil-stick, must have murdered Maurice, and must have drugged Jaggard for the purpose of completing her devilish work by stealing my poor boy's body. But her reason?"
 
That she did not desire Maurice for a son-in-law was an for the commission of a triple crime. She had declined to sanction the engagement; she had forbidden Maurice the house; and, assisted upon all points by social rules, she had ample power to prevent the match, which, as she , was distasteful to her. Why, then, with this power, should she liberty and life by thieving the devil-stick and the man? In his perplexity, Jen sought out David and asked his opinion. The young lawyer gave a very verdict in favor of Mrs. Dallas.
 
"I don't believe Mrs. Dallas has anything to do with the matter," he said, in a decisive voice. "She had no motive to commit these three crimes, each one of which is more terrible than the other. Nor, major, do I think that she has nerve or brain enough to design or accomplish or theft."
 
"But I assure you, David, the handkerchief is hers."
 
"Granted; but you forget that Isabella was in the room on that night. She might have dropped the handkerchief."
 
"Well," said Jen, after a pause, "that is not improbable. But the perfume?"
 
"Oh," replied David, with a , "we know that the scent is an Ashantee preparation. Dido's grandmother came from Ashantee, so it is just probable that Dido herself, knowing the secret, might have prepared a dose of the poison."
 
"Even so. Why should she have perfumed the handkerchief?"
 
"I can't say, major. You had better ask her."
 
"Egad, I shall," cried Jen, starting from his chair. "And also I'll find out why she needed to prepare the poison at all. In my opinion, David, that black Jezebel is at the bottom of the whole affair. She thieved the devil-stick, she prepared the poison, murdered Maurice, and stole his body."
 
"You accused Mrs. Dallas of all these things five minutes ago," said David, ironically, "and now you think--"
 
"I don't know what to think," cried Jen, in desperation. "Dido or Mrs. Dallas, I don't know which, but one of them, must be guilty. I'll go over to The Wigwam at once."
 
"To accuse them upon insufficient evidence?"
 
"No. I'll see Isabella, and hear what she has to say. She loved Maurice, and will aid me to his death."
 
"That is improbable, if to do so she has to betray her mother or her nurse. I don't think you'll learn much in that quarter, major."
 
"I'll learn what I can, at all events," retorted Jen; and in this unsatisfactory manner the conversation concluded. David to his room, and Jen went off to interview Isabella at The Wigwam.
 
He walked down to the gates, and here, on the high-road, his thoughts led him to a sudden conclusion respecting the coming conversation with Miss Dallas. Without much consideration he his steps rapidly, and sought out David in his room. Then and there he asked him a question which was of vital importance.
 
"David," said he , "owing to the coming of Etwald and Arkel on that night--the night upon which the body was stolen, I mean--I forgot to ask you what reception Miss Dallas met with on her return home. Who received her?"
 
"Mrs. Dallas. She had missed her daughter and had been seeking for her in a state of terror, surely natural under the circumstances. I found her pacing the , wondering what had become of Isabella."
 
"Pacing the veranda?" echoed Jen, thoughtfully. "Was she dressed?"
 
"Well, yes, so far as my memory serves me, I think she was."
 
"And Dido?"
 
"I saw nothing or heard nothing of Dido. When I found Mrs. Dallas, I simply performed my mission, and delivered Isabella into her hands. The poor girl was quite distraught with the horror of the night, and was led unresistingly to bed by her mother."
 
"Mrs. Dallas dressed! Dido missing!" said the major. "Thank you, David, you have told me all I want to know," and with a nod Major Jen set off for the second time to The Wigwam.
 
The major was rather inclined to agree with David that it would be difficult to learn anything of material value from Isabella. On the night she had visited the house at three o'clock in the morning her brain had been unsettled for the time being by the terrible death which had overtaken her lover, and she had been thrown into a by the myste............