Major Jen sprang to his feet with a loud cry. This information that Battersea was the criminal took him so by surprise that for the moment he was tongue-tied. Then, when he recalled the feeble and form of the old tramp, when he his weak intelligence, he altogether declined to believe that such a creature, one so wanting in activity, could have conceived and executed a triple crime--the theft of the devil-stick, the murder of Maurice, the stealing of the body. Battersea had not sufficient craft or strength to do such things. With a of his shoulders the major resumed his seat.  
"You must be mistaken, Lady Meg," he said in a quiet voice. "Whosoever may be guilty, Battersea, for physical and mental reasons, must be innocent."
 
"That you must prove," replied Lady Meg, dryly.
 
"And in accusing Battersea I go only on your own . You said that the man who stole the devil-stick, who had it in his possession, must be the guilty person. You see the devil-stick there." She to the table. "Well, I obtained that from Battersea."
 
"How did you obtain it?"
 
"Knowing that I collected curiosities, he came to sell it to me."
 
"A proof of his innocence," cried Jen, .
 
"If the man had been guilty, he certainly would not offer the evidence of his for sale. Where did he obtain this devil-stick?"
 
"Out of your smoking-room, I presume," said Lady Meg, "But I have not questioned him, as I thought it best that you should examine him yourself."
 
"Certainly, when I can find him. Where is he now?"
 
"Round at your stables with my . I brought him over with me."
 
"Thank you, Lady Meg," said Jen, cordially. "I congratulate you on your presence of mind, and on your courage."
 
"There is no necessity to congratulate me at all," replied the other, coloring. "I knew that it would not be wise to let him out of sight after I saw the devil-stick in his possession. And as to my courage," she added carelessly, "the poor old creature is so feeble that even I, a woman, could overpower him. But ring the bell, major, and have him in. I may be wrong. He may be innocent, but if you force him to confess how he obtained possession of the devil-stick you may get at the truth, and perhaps at the name of the murderer."
 
"It won't be the name of Battersea," said Jen, the button of the bell. "He had no to steal my devil-stick or to kill Maurice, nor could he have any reason to take possession of a dead body. Besides," added Jen, returning to his seat, "if this tramp were guilty, he would scarcely put his neck in danger by offering you the devil-stick for sale."
 
At this moment the footman appeared in answer to the bell, and in to his master's order left the room again for the purpose of bringing in old Battersea for examination. While waiting, neither Lady Meg nor the major , as they both considered, and truly, that nothing further could be said until the truth was forced from the tramp. Then the present aspect of the case might change, and an important step might be taken toward the solution of the mystery.
 
As dirty and disreputable as ever, Battersea, rolling his cap in his dirty hands, made his appearance on the threshold of the library, conducted by the disgusted footman. When the door was closed behind him, and he stood alone before those who were about to examine him, he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, blinked his bleared eyes, and blushed as with the shame of guilt through the sallow darkness of his skin. Jen, with the military instinct of command within him, looked sternly at the feeble old creature, and questioned him sharply, as though he were talking to a soldier who had done wrong. On her part, Lady Meg left the most part of the examination to the major; but she listened with anxious looks and parted lips to every word which fell from the tramp's lips. The death of the man whom she had loved so deeply had terrible upon her loving heart, and, as a tribute to his memory, she was anxious to punish his assassin. But at present, influenced by the views of the major, she began to waver in her opinion regarding the guilt of the weak-brained creature who stood trembling at the .
 
"What is your name, man?" demanded Jen, commencing in the orthodox manner.
 
"Battersea, sir."
 
"What else?"
 
"Nothin' else," retorted the tramp . "My father was black, an' my mother she was white; an' they weren't married. I was brought up in Battersea parish, so I took that name, I did, not havin' any right to another name."
 
"How do you get your living?"
 
"I begs!" said Battersea, . "And when I can't get nuffin I steals."
 
"I am sure of that," remarked Jen, taking the devil-stick off the table. "And you stole this, I'll be bound."
 
"I didn't. I found it."
 
"Oh!" said the major, in a satirical tone. "You found it? Where?"
 
"At Missus Dallas' place."
 
Jen started, and looked sharply at the old man, who, to all appearances, was answering his questions with all possible .
 
"Be more , man," he said sternly. "What do you mean by Mrs. Dallas' place? The house or the grounds?"
 
"The groun's, near the gate."
 
"When did you find it?"
 
"The day arter th' young gen'man was killed."
 
"And why didn't you give it up to the police?"
 
Battersea .
 
"I wanted money for it, I did," he said huskily, "an' they wouldn't give no tin to me fur findin' it. She," pointing to Lady Meg, "is fond of pretty things, so I guv it her for five shillin'; but she didn't pay me for it.&q............