Major Jen recoiled from the young girl in amazement.
"Your mother," he muttered, hardly believing the evidence of his own senses. "Your mother stole the devil-stick?"
"Yes; but she did not know what she was doing!"
Jen frowned.
"That is impossible!" he said, positively. "Quite impossible!"
"No! no! Wait! Listen!" said Isabella, much agitated. "I told you falsehoods before to shield my mother. Now that I know that you have discovered so much, that you are bent on punishing Dr. Etwald, I must tell you the truth, so that she may not be dragged down to ruin. But not here--not here: my mother may see us--and Dido," the girl shuddered. "Dido, of whom I am afraid. Come with me, major. Quickly!"
Without glancing toward the house Isabella ran down a secluded path which led through a kind of shrubbery to the flower-garden, and then disappeared into a light cane summer-house, constructed in the Chinese fashion, and which was overgrown with greenery. Major Jen followed her as rapidly as his more mature age would permit him; and as he hastened, he felt a wild thrill of delight that at last he was about to hear the truth. That it should be told to him by so unexpected a person as Isabella Dallas, was not the least strange part of this strange affair.
"Major," she said, when somewhat out of breath he had taken his seat beside her in the summer-house, "although I relate what inculpates my mother, it is to save her that I do so. Both she and I are in a net woven by Dido."
"Ah! poor Maurice always mistrusted that negress!"
"He was right to do so. Oh, you do not know what a terrible woman she is. For years both I and my mother have been under her influence; and have submitted to her will. Now, I see her in her true colors, and I am determined to speak the truth. Save myself and my mother, major; for we are innocent. Dr. Etwald and Dido are the guilty persons."
"They killed Maurice!"
"Yes. I am sure of it."
"They stole the body?"
"I can swear they did," said Isabella, with emotion.
"Why did you not tell me of this before?" asked the major.
"I have only been certain of these things since our last interview. I lied to you then because Dido said if I told the truth she would accuse my mother of the murder."
"I see," said Jen, thoughtfully, "and I can understand their motives. Dido wished you to marry Etwald."
"Yes; and it was to force my mother into compliance with that desire that the whole of these crimes were committed. Dido--"
"One moment, Miss Dallas. What influence has Etwald over the negress?"
Isabella shuddered.
"He is the possessor of the Voodoo stone," she said in a low voice.
"The Voodoo stone," echoed Jen, much puzzled. "And what may that be?"
"It is a small black pebble of a peculiar shape," explained the girl, "and it was brought from Africa to Barbadoes over a hundred years ago. The negroes believe that a spirit dwells in this stone, and that when it is worshiped the indwelling devil can work woe to those against whom the possessor of the stone bears malice. You can have no idea how this talisman is venerated by all the blacks; they will go miles to look on it, to adore it; they would burn down a city to possess it; to gain it they would murder a hundred human beings. Well, Dr. Etwald was in Barbadoes some years ago, and he gained possession of this Voodoo stone. He has used it while here to intimidate Dido. While he holds it she will not dare to disobey him, and all this plotting and assassination designed to bring about my marriage with Dr. Etwald, has been designed by him, and carried out by Dido, solely on account of his ownership of the Voodoo stone. You know that she calls him the 'great master!' Well--now you can guess the reason for her service worship of this man."
"Yes," assented Jen, turning his sharp eyes on Isabella, "and you--do you believe in this Voodoo stone also?"
"No. When I was a child I did, and I fancy that my mother also had some belief in it. Brought up among the negroes of Barbadoes both she and I imbibed the superstitions of the black race; but now we have no faith in such follies. For my part," added the girl, anxiously, "I should be glad to get rid of Dido, seeing that with Dr. Etwald and his malignant influence of the Voodoo stone, she is dragging us toward disgrace; but my mother still clings to her as an old servant, and will not let her go."
"I see. And about the theft of this devil-stick?"
"Oh, on the night it was stolen, I was seated on the veranda after dinner, and I saw my mother come out with Dido. They did not know I was there, as I sat in the shade. I saw Dido speak to my mother and point toward your house. Then she waved her hands before my mother's face, whereupon my mother turned and walked swiftly past where I was seated. I saw her face; it was quite white, and her eyes were open and glassy. She--"
"In a word," interrupted Jen, "this black witch had hypnotized Mrs. Dallas."
"Yes; but I did not know that until later on. When my mother disappeared Dido re-entered the house. At once--terrified by my mother's action--I ran down the little path which leads to the gate and followed her out onto the road. She went into your grounds by the postern in the wall. I saw her cross the lawn, and enter the smoking-room, wherein a lamp was burning. When she came out it was with the devil-stick in her hand. I recognized it by the golden handle. I reached home before she did, and again hid on the veranda. Dido reappeared as my mother came up the walk, and took the devil-stick from her. Then she led her indoors."
"And what did you do?" asked Jen, much interested in this strange history.
"I went in later on, and found that my mother had gone to bed. I said nothing at the time as I was afraid of Dido. Afterward, when Maurice was killed, and you said that the devil-stick had killed him, I went to Dido and accused her of the crime.
"She was fearfully angry and warned me that if I said a word about the theft of the devil-stick I would be in danger of hanging my own mother."
"What!" cried Jen, jumping up, "did Dido accuse your mother of the crime?"
"To me, yes. To my mother, no. Afraid lest such an accusation should kill my mother, who is not strong as you know, I said nothing to her, or indeed to anyone. I told a lie to you to save my mother; what else could I do? But now I tell you the truth, and I wish you to protect us both against the evil of Dido and Dr. Etwald."
"You believe that Dr. Etwald killed Maurice?"
"I am sure of it. When I became ill through the terror of the secret which I possessed. Dido prepared that poison under the pretense of curing me, but I now know that she did so to refill the devil-stick. She then sent it to Etwald, and he killed Maurice. Also he stole the body with the assistance of Dido."
"Why should this pair of wretches steal the body?"
"I know no more than you do," said Isabella, with great despondency. "But now. Major Jen, you can understand my not speaking the truth at our last interview."
"Yes, and I honor you for it," said Jen, kissing her hand. "But tell me one thing. Why did you make that midnight visit?"
"Well, I was not quite myself, major, in the first place; and in the second I missed Dido!"
"On that night?" asked Jen, eagerly.
"Yes. I was ill, as I have said, and my mother was watching by my bedside. Usually it is Dido who does so. I asked my mother about Dido, and she said that Dido had asked permission to go out for the evening."
"To see Dr. Etwald, I suppose?"
"No. I thought so at first, but one of the servants who brought me a cup of tea late at night told me that Dido had gone to your house to offer her services in laying out the body of my dear Maurice."
"Oh!" said the major, suddenly recollecting what had taken place. "I remember her visit; but she gave as her excuse that you wanted to see me."
"One of her lies," said Isabella, vehemently. "I did not know she had gone to your house until the servant told me. Then when I remembered how the devil-stick had been stolen I was afraid lest Dido should be contriving further mischief. Although it was late I could not rest in my bed. I tossed and turned with my brain burning with the fever. I felt that I must learn what was taking place at your house. My mother left me about two o'clock in the morning quite worn out with her watching. Then I rose, put on a dressing-gown, and escaped by the window. I reached your library at three o'clock. You know the rest."
"Yes," assented the major, with a nod, "and I know that, as you imagined. Dido was up to some mischief. She stole the body with Etwald; but why? why?" muttered Jen, in perplexed tones.
"I cannot guess," said Isabella, for the second time. "But now that I have told you all, major, what do you intend to do?"
"Return to my house and see Etwald!"
"Is he there?"
"I expect him at noon along with Inspector Arkel. Then I may force the truth out of him. Certainly I shall have him arrested on suspicion of murder."
"And Dido!"
"I shall take no steps concerning her at present," said Jen, glancing at his watch, "especially as there is no fear of her leaving the neighborhood."
"No!" replied Isabella, interpreting the major's thought. "While the Voodoo stone is with Dr. Etwald she will not leave the place where he is staying."
"In that case, she will have to live in Deanminster jail; for there---as sure as I am a living man--Etwald shall find himself before another twelve hours are over his head. And now, my dear young lady," added Jen, rising, "I must leave you, to keep my appointment with the scoundrel. Do not speak of our conversation to anyone!"
"You can depend upon my silence," said Isabella, who held out her hand.
Major Jen shook it in his usual kindly manner, and moved a step toward the door of the summer-house. All at once he paused and looked back.
"One moment, Miss Dallas!" he said, quickly. "Does David know about the theft of the devil-stick? That is," he added more precisely, "does he know that your mother stole it?"
Isabella considered.
"I cannot be quite certain if he does!" she said, after a pause, "but I fancy he has some idea of it. When he has seen me of late he has always been so nervous and silent. At our last meeting, also, he told me that we were to fear nothing."
"H'm!" said Jen, reflectively. "Undoubtedly you are right. Miss Dallas. David must have learned the truth in some way; but I cannot imagine how. Well, good-by, good-by. I shall see you later on when we have this scoundrel under lock and key."
The major hurried off, leaving Isabella alone in the summer-house. He walked on slowly, notwithstanding that it was past the hour he had appointed to meet Arkel and Etwald. His thoughts were busy with what Isabella had said concerning David's knowledge of the trick.
"Undoubtedly he believes that Mrs. Dallas killed Maurice," thought Jen, "and that is why he refuses to confess to me. He said that I would be the first to blame him for telling all he knew, and as he is under the delusion that Mrs. Dallas is guilty, I understand now the reason of his silence. Also he said that he would never marry Isabella; which shows that he is afraid of becoming the husband of a woman whose mother has committed a crime. Poor boy, how he must suffer; and after all I must say that I approve of his honorable silence. But!" added the major to himself, "when he knows that Mrs. Dallas is innocent and that Etwald is guilty, he will then be able to marry Isabella!"
On consideration Jen thought it would be best to say nothing definite to David about his discovery. If the young man, from a feeling of honor toward an unhappy woman, kept silent, the major was the last person in the world to tempt him to break it. Jen decided to merely hint to David that he knew the truth, and let the arrest of Etwald tell its own tale, and unseal the lad's lips, by showing that Mrs. Dallas was innocent. As Jen came to this conclusion, he entered his own gates, and rather to his surprise, he saw David, considerably agitated, advancing to meet him.
"Inspector Arkel and Dr. Etwald are waiting for you in the library," said Sarby, rapidly.
"I know it. I sent for them."
"You sent for them?"
"Well, why not? I wish the first to arrest the second."
"Arrest Dr. Etwald! On what grounds?"
"On the grounds of having murdered Maurice," said Jen, coldly. "Yes, you may look astonished, David, but it is the truth. Without your assistance I have discovered that Etwald is guilty. Also," added the major, in a kindly tone, "I know the reason of your silence."
"Of ray silence?" echoed David. "You know the reason?"
"Yes, and I honor you for it."
"Who--who--told you?" stammered the young man, as pale as death.
"Miss Dallas."
"Isabella! My God!" David looked terrified.
Before Jen had time to inquire the meaning of David's strange exclamation, the young man had turned on his heel and was walking rapidly back to the house. Surprised by this behavior, and suspicious of its reason, the major called out to him to stop; but without taking any notice the young man increased his pace, and was soon lost to sight. Still marveling, Jen went after him, and on entering the library found that only Arkel was present.
"Where is Dr. Etwald?" demanded the major, anxiously.
"He went upstairs a few minutes ago to see your servant," replied the inspector, rising.
"Alone, Mr. Arkel?"
"Why no, major. Mr. Sarby was with him."
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.
"I'll find out what it all means after I have had speech with Arkel," said Jen to himself. "The doctor cannot escape me, and if David has an understanding with him, I'll force them both to confess. There can be no harm in leaving them together for a few minutes."
In this Jen was wrong, but, as he was only an amateur detective, he cannot be blamed very severely for his negligence at this particular moment. He acted--as he thought--for the best, and therefore hastened to explain to Arkel the position of affairs before the return of Dr. Etwald. Afterward, when the matter of the accusation and arrest were settled, he intended to have speech with David, and insist upon an explanation of the young man's mysterious behavior. Thus did the situation present itself to his inexperienced eyes.
"Well, never mind Dr. Etwald just now," he said aloud, pointing to a chair. "He has his duties to perform, and I have mine. Sit down, Mr. Arkel. I suppose you wonder why I have sent for you?"
"Well; no, major. I presume it is in connection with the case."
"You are right. I wish to know if you have discovered anything new."
"Yes. Your messenger, Battersea, was wandering about your grounds on that night."
"Battersea!" cried Jen, thunderstruck. "Did he see the body carried off?"
"He did not see it taken out of the house," explained Arkel, referring to some notes which he held in his hand, "but he saw it put into the carriage."
"A carriage?"
"Yes, which was waiting in the winding lane at the foot of your grounds. Two people carried the body between them--a man and a woman--but Battersea cannot give me their names."
"I can, however," said Jen, grimly. "Oh, it is just as I thought."
"What are the names, major?" asked Arkel, anxiously.
"I'll give you the names later on, Mr. Inspector. In the meantime, be good enough to conclude your report of Battersea's confession. It interests me deeply."
"I thought it would," replied Arkel, with a look of satisfaction. "Well, Battersea wondered at the body being put into the carriage--"
"Did he know that it was Alymer's corpse?" interrupted Jen, sharply.
"He guessed as much from the circumstance that the body was carried through your grounds to the lane where the carriage was waiting. You know, major, that this tramp is rather stupid, and it is not an easy thing for him to put two and two together."
"On this occasion, however, he discovered that they made four," replied the major, dryly. "Well, the man and the woman put the body into the carriage--a closed carriage, I suppose?"
"Yes," assented Arkel, with a nod, "a brougham."
"A doctor's brougham?"
"What," cried the inspector, with a look of surprise, "has the scamp told you?"
"He has told me nothing. Please go on."
"Well," said Arkel, making his invariable beginning, "when the body was placed in the carriage and the door closed, the woman went away."
"In what direction?"
"She returned through your grounds, but where she went Battersea does not know."
"I do, however," muttered Jen, divining that Dido had taken the usual route back to "The Wigwam."
"And the man?"
"He mounted the carriage-box and drove off. It appears that there was no coachman."
"I don't wonder at that," rejoined the major. "This precious pair were afraid to trust their infernal secret to a third party. No doubt the horse, being quiet, was left to stand in the deep shadow of the lane, while the robbers stole the corpse. However, I understand. The woman went away, the man mounted the box, and I suppose, drove off with the corpse."
"Also with Battersea," added Arkel, with a significant smile. "It seems that the tramp wished to see the end of this singular adventure, or, no doubt, he wished to make money out of it."
"By blackmailing? I see. I suppose he hung on behind."
"Yes; like a street arab. He was one, once, you know, major, and has not forgotten his early habits. Well, he was driven with the carriage to Deanminster."
"Quite so, and into that gloomy courtyard which surrounds the house of Dr. Etwald," added Major Jen, with a satisfied smile, "Battersea saw the doctor take the body out of the carriage and carry it into the house. Then, on his return--Etwald's I mean--he unharnessed the horse and put it into the stable; also the carriage into the coach-house. Is that not so, Mr. Arkel?"
"Battersea told you," stammered Arkel, amazed at his insight.
"I assure you he told me nothing. But I am as clever as Battersea, and can put two and two together. Next day Battersea went to Etwald, did he not, and tried to blackmail him, but this clever doctor compelled him to keep silent."
"It's all quite true," assented the inspector, thunderstruck; "though how you guessed it all I cannot say. But, as you know so much, perhaps you can tell me one thing more, which bothers me not a little. How did Dr. Etwald compel Battersea to keep silence?"
"Very easily," said Jen, with a shrug. "Battersea is half negro. The black race adore the Voodoo stone, of which Dr. Etwald is the possessor. Etwald simply threatened Battersea with the vengeance of the Voodoo stone if he spoke. Therefore, he held his tongue, and was forced to confess all this only by your threatening to have him arrested as the murderer of Mr. Alymer.
"I did threaten him; but how you know--"
"I know a great many things, Mr. Inspector. For instance, I know that the woman who assisted Dr. Etwald to steal the body is Dido, the negress of Mrs. Dallas; also that Dr. Etwald is a murderer as well as a thief."
"Heavens! If I had only known that I would have had the warrant altered."
"What!" cried Jen, with an expression of ferocious joy lighting up his face, "you have a warrant for the arrest of Etwald?"
"Yes, but on the charge of stealing the body only. I took it out after hearing the evidence of the tramp, Battersea."
"Very good. Then you can take out a warrant for his arrest as a murderer, after hearing my evidence."
"Can you prove him guilty?"
Jen rose to his feet and stretched out one hand toward Arkel.
"I swear, on my sacred honor, that Maurice Alymer was killed by Max Etwald!"
At this moment the door of the library opened slowly, and Dr. Etwald, calm and composed, appeared on the threshold. Behind him, over his shoulder, peered the pale countenance of David. From the ironical look on the doctor's face it would appear that he had overheard the accusation of the major, and was prepared to treat it with contempt. That such was the case appeared by the first words which issued from his mouth as he faced his accuser.
"I hear the name of Max Etwald coupled with the crime of murder. Is this the way you treat your guests, major?"
"You are not my guest," retorted Jen, furiously.
"No; rather your victim, seeing that you have lured me into a trap. It was not to see Jaggard that you asked me here; but rather to force me--if you can--into confessing that I am guilty of a triple crime."
"You make one slight mistake, sir," said Jen, coldly. "I accuse you of two crimes, not of three."
"Ah, you are lenient," replied Etwald, a shade of surprise passing over his features, a surprise which was reflected in the agitated face of David Sarby.
"Well, sir, let me hear of what I am accused."
With the utmost coolness he entered the room and sat down in a chair near Arkel. The inspector, with his hand in his breast-pocket, fingered the warrant, but did not deem it wise to execute it until he had heard what proof the major possessed against Etwald for the murder of Maurice Alymer. David sat down near the door, and followed every movement of the scene which ensued with keen eyes. Thus, three of the occupants of the room were seated--Sarby, Arkel, and Etwald. Only one man stood up--Major Jen--and he stood as the accuser.
"Dr. Etwald," said the major, with great calmness and deliberation, "you are a clever and ambitious man, who wishes to make his way in the world, but has hitherto failed to do so for lack of money. To procure money for your experiments in chemistry, you would do anything--even marry a rich woman!"
"Or murder the man formerly engaged to her," retorted Etwald, with a pale smile. "Go on. Major Jen, I see the mark you are aiming at."
"You found this rich match here," resumed Jen, without noticing the interruption, "in the person of Miss Dallas, already engaged to the late Mr. Alymer."
"And also loved by Mr. Sarby," said the doctor, coolly.
"We will come to that later on, if you please," said the major, making a gesture to David to be silent. "You loved her and wanted your rival, Mr. Alymer, out of the way. To do so you had my devil-stick stolen."
"Ho, ho; and by whom?"
"By Mrs. Dallas!"
"Mrs. Dallas?" cried David, starting from his seat. "Did she steal the devil-stick?"
"It would seem so from this veracious history the major is telling us, said Etwald, with irony.
"Mrs. Dallas stole the devil-stick," resumed Jen, imperturbably, "and gave it to Dido, who, by your directions, filled it with fresh poison. Dido gave the newly-prepared weapon of death to you, and with it you killed my poor boy at the very gates of the girl he loved."
"Really!" said Etwald, with pointed satire. "Was I as cruel as that!"
"Afterward you stole the body of the man you murdered. Dido helped you to do so, and drugged my servant, Jaggard, with the perfume of the devil-stick poison, in order that the theft might be carried out with safety."
"It would seem that Dido has a great deal to do with these matters," said Etwald, looking up to the roof.
"She has everything to do with them. She will be brought up against you as a witness."
"Indeed! Then it appears that I am to be arrested."
"I can answer that," broke in Arkel, amazed at the self-possession of the man. "I have here a warrant to arrest you for stealing the body of Maurice Alymer."
Etwald glanced over the warrant and smiled.
"How can you prove that I did so?" he demanded.
"By the evidence of the tramp Battersea."
"Battersea!" repeated the doctor, and for the first time he frowned.
"Yes. He saw you place the body in your brougham, with the assistance of Dido. He followed you to Deanminster, and saw you take the body into your house."
"Really! But all this evidence is circumstantial. Have you searched my house?"
"We intend doing so."
"I am afraid you will have your trouble for nothing," rejoined Etwald, coolly. "Moreover, you can't arrest me without actual proof."
"I can arrest you on suspicion," said Arkel, rising with his warrant, "and I arrest you now in the Queen's name."
"On what charge?"
"On the charge of stealing the body of Maurice Alymer."
"Oh, then," said Etwald, turning toward Jen, "I am not to be accused of the murder."
"Later on, my friend Cain," said the major, grimly. "You will have quite enough to do to save your neck from the halter."
"I am afraid so, indeed, major, therefore I must have assistance. There is nothing like being provided in time with counsel for the defense; therefore, I must ask Mr. David Sarby to defend me from these absurd charges."
"I!" cried David, starting up with pale cheeks. "I defend you!"
"Assuredly," replied Etwald, fixing a piercing glance on the young man. "Do you refuse?"
"Of course he does," cried Jen, wrathfully.
David raised his head and looked at the major, at the doctor, at the inspector.
"No," he said in a firm voice to all three. "I accept. I shall defend Max Etwald."
Great was the astonishment throughout the neighborhood when it became known that Dr. Etwald, the clever physician of Deanminster, had been arrested on a double charge of murder and theft of a dead body. Those who did not like him--and they were the majority--rejoiced openly that the assassin of Maurice Alymer had been found in Etwald's person; but there were some that regretted that so brilliant a man should be consigned to a felon's cell, and--possibly in the hereafter--to a felon's doom. But whatever opinions, for or against the prisoner, were held by the good people of Deanminster and the surrounding neighborhood, there was no doubt of one thing: The trial of Max Etwald at the assizes would be the great sensation of the year.
Major Jen worked hard to procure evidence against the prisoner, and David Sarby worked just as hard to obtain materials for the defense. The attitude taken up by the young barrister astonished everybody and was universally condemned. That he--who might almost be called the brother of the dead man--should defend the assassin of such brother was almost incredible of belief. People were astonished and angered by the very idea, and when that idea became known to be an actual fact the conduct of David was disapproved of on every side. Only one man said nothing, and that man was the very person who had the best right to speak. While all talked, Major Jen remained silent. His reticence on the subject caused almost as much scandal as David's inexplicable conduct.
Yet Jen knew what he was about, and he was acting merely in accordance with an agreement he had made with Sarby. After that memorable interview in the library, when Etwald was accused and arrested, Arkel took away his prisoner in custody by virtue of the warrant, and left Major Jen alone with the counsel for the defense. The assassin--so-called--and Inspector Arkel left the room; they left the house. When the sound of Etwald's carriage--for he went to Deanminster jail in his own brougham--had died away in the distance, Jen, who had hitherto kept silence, raised his head and looked at David.
"Well, sir!" he said in an icy tone to his adopted son, "I am waiting for you to explain this very extraordinary conduct."
David replied in equally as cold a manner.
"Major Jen, I have no explanation to give you."
"What!" cried his guardian, rising. "Do you dare to sit there and tell me that you are a traitor, a coward, and an ungrateful man?"
"A traitor?" echoed David, with a flush rising in his pale cheeks.
"Yes, sir. A traitor to your foster-brother, who was your rival. It is because Maurice loved the woman who hates you that you act the unworthy part of defending his murderer."
"Very good, major; I understand why I am a traitor. But a coward?"
"You are a coward in submitting yourself to the influence of this base assassin," cried Jen, enraged by the calmness of the young man. "And as an ungrateful man--do you want an explanation of that term?--you whom I have loved and brought up as my own son?"
"No. I can understand your anger from your point of view."
"My point of view! My point of view!" raged Jen, stamping. "From the point of view of the world, sir! What will everyone say when they learn that you intend to defend Etwald?"
"They will say almost as cruel things as you have said," returned David, still composed. "But I do not care for the opinion of the public. I act according to the dictates of my own conscience."
Jen drew back and stared at the young man in angry surprise.
"Your own conscience!" he repeated, in disdain. "How can you talk in that manner? What excuse can you--"
"I have an excellent excuse," interrupted David, rising.
"What is it, if I may be so bold as to ask?"
"I refuse to tell you--at present."
"Indeed! And am I ever to learn the reason of your extraordinary behavior?"
David considered.
"Yes, major," said he at length. "You shall learn my reason--at the trial."
"At the trial?"
"I shall explain it when I make my speech for the defense."
"What do you mean?" cried Jen, his curiosity getting the better of his anger. "Is it possible that you believe in the innocence of this man?"
"As counsel for the defense you can hardly expect me to answer that."
"As your adopted father, I demand an answer."
"You shall have it, sir--at the trial."
The obstinacy and marvelous composure of the young man were not without their due effect on Major Jen. He drew back, and after a few moments' consideration, he spoke in all seriousness.
"David," said he, quietly, "there is something very extraordinary in your behavior, and you refuse to give me your reasons therefor. If I wait until the trial, will you explain?"
"Yes. I have already told you so. In my speech for the defense you will be fully satisfied that I have good cause to act as I am doing."
"Very good," said Jen, calmly. "Then I shall say nothing to any one about your very curious behavior. I shall work hard to secure the condemnation of this scoundrel. You can do your best to save him. But against you, or for you, I shall not open my mouth. At the trial I shall expect an explanation."
"You shall have it."
"But," added Jen, raising his head, "as until that explanation we are enemies--although not openly so--I shall require you to leave my house."
"I expected that you would do so," rejoined David, bowing his head. "Indeed, you can act in no other way. To-day I shall take lodgings in Deanminster and wait for the trial. I shall defend Etwald to the best of my ability, and then you can decide whether I am fit to re-enter this house."
"I can't understand you, sir," said Jen, with a sigh. "Whatever your reasons may be, I feel sure that I shall not approve of them."
"You approved of my reasons before, major. You shall approve of them again. In the meantime, until the trial, let us remain strangers."
He bowed, and without offering his hand--which it is very probable Major Jen would have refused to take--he left the room. When the door closed the older man sank into a chair and passed his hand across a brow moist with perspiration.
"There can be only one explanation," he muttered. "David is mad."
The result of this conversation was that David took up his residence in Deanminster near the jail, and saw Etwald frequently about his defense. The doctor assured him that he possessed sufficient power over Dido, by reason of owning the Voodoo stone, to prevent her from becoming a witness against him. Sarby was satisfied that if Dido did not appear to give evidence the case for the prosecution would fall through. She was the only witness of whom the barrister and the prisoner had any fear.
On his part, Major Jen, together with Arkel, built up a strong case against the man whom they fully believed to be the culprit. Search had been made in Etwald's house, but no traces of the dead body could be found. Its disappearance was almost as profound a mystery as the reason which had induced Etwald to steal it. The reasons for the theft of the devil-stick, for the murder of Maurice, were plain enough; but what had induced the doctor to make away with the corpse no one could discover. Etwald himself, even to his counsel, was silent on the subject.
Arkel had sought out as witnesses against Etwald seven persons. First, Mrs. Dallas, who was to prove that she was hypnotized frequently by Dido. Second, Isabella, who was to depose that before the murder her mother had been sent by Dido to "Ashantee" to steal the devil-stick, while under the influence of hypnotism. Third, Battersea, who was to give evidence that he had found the devil-stick within the grounds of Mrs. Dallas. Fourth, Lady Meg, who was to prove the offer of Battersea to sell her the stick. Fifth, Major Jen, who could explain the engagement of the dead man to Miss Dallas and the rivalry of his assassin. Sixth, Jaggard, whose evidence would tend to show that Dido had drugged him for the purpose of stealing the body. And seventh, the most important witness of all. Dido, who was to depose to the manufacture of the poison, the refilling of the devil-stick, and the giving of it to Dr. Etwald, so that he might perpetrate the crime. With these seven witnesses Jen did not see how Etwald could escape the gallows.
"Are you certain that all these people will speak out?" asked the major of Arkel when the list was submitted to him.
"I am certain of all save one," replied Arkel, in a dissatisfied tone, "and the worst of it is that Dido is the one."
"Does she refuse to give evidence against Etwald?"
"I should think so. Simply because he is the holder of the Voodoo stone."
"Can we force her by threats to give evidence?" said Jen, angrily.
"I don't think so; it wouldn't be legal," answered Arkel. "The only chance of getting the negress to confess to the whole truth is for either you or I to gain possession of that stone."
"Where is it?"
"Etwald carries it on his watch chain. I saw him the other day in prison and he showed it to me. A common little black stone it is, but Dido would kill him with pleasure to get it."
"Kill Etwald!" ejaculated Jen. Then, after a pause, he added: "I believe you are right, Arkel, for it is not the man himself she cares about, but the stone. However. I'll see Isabella and make her persuade Dido to speak against Etwald."
The major went at once to "The Wigwam," but, notwithstanding all his eloquence, in spite of the tears and implorings of Isabella, the negress positively declined to say a word against the Great Master.
"While dat big man hab de Voodoo stone I do notin'--notin'," she said. And from this obstinate position they all failed to move her.
When Major Jen departed both Isabella and her mother were in despair. Failing the proving of the crime against Etwald, accusations might be made against Mrs. Dallas. And this result could be brought about by Dido, did she choose; but the spell of the Voodoo stone was on her, and she refused to say anything likely to inculpate its master.
"Why don't you get the Voodoo stone yourself, if you adore it so much?" cried Mrs. Dallas, exasperated by this obstinacy.
Dido opened and shut her hand convulsively.
"Ah, if I hab dat Voodoo stone I be great; great--de queen ob de debbles. But he no let it go."
"Go and see Dr. Etwald and tell him you will give evidence against him unless he gives you the stone."
This suggestion came from Isabella, but of it Dido took no notice. Without a word to mother or daughter, who were both in tears, she left the room. In the afternoon she was nowhere to be found, and both Mrs. Dallas and Isabella came to the conclusion that she had fled to avoid being forced into giving incriminating evidence. They fell into one another's arms and were beside themselves with terror. All the evil done by Dido and Etwald seemed likely to fall upon their innocent heads.
"Still there is hope," said Isabella, recognizing the occasion for prompt action. "We shall speak to Major Jen and ask him to send the police after this wretched woman."
This opinion was at once acted upon, and a messenger was sent to "Ashantee," but Major Jen was from home, and it was not until six o'clock that he presented himself at "The Wigwam" and heard the story of Dido's flight.
"But she can't be very far away," said Jen, hopefully. "I saw her in Deanminster, and thought she had gone there with a message from you."
"No, no," cried Mrs. Dallas, wringing her hands. "She will catch the train there and go to London. Oh, why didn't you stop her?"
"I wish I had known," said Jen, rather dismayed to find his fine case against Etwald breaking down. "But even if we had forced her into court she would not have given evidence against the holder of the Voodoo stone."
"Dat so?" said a hoarse voice at the door.
The three people turned and saw Dido, with an expression of triumph on her dark face, enter the room.
"Dido!" cried Isabella. "You did not run away?" "No, missy. I tell de truth against dat man."
"But the Voodoo stone?" said Jen, wondering what she meant.
Dido opened her clenched fist. The Voodoo stone lay in the palm of her hand.
How she became possessed of the Voodoo stone Dido refused to say. Jen had learned from Inspector Arkel that Etwald wore the talisman on his watch chain, and he wondered in what fashion Dido had contrived to penetrate into the prison and to obtain it from the doctor. The whole result of the trial depended upon the transfer of the stone. If Etwald kept it, Dido would not dare to give evidence against him, and so, in the absence of the incriminating details, he would go free. As it was, the stone was now in the possession of Dido, and for some reason, which Jen was unable to fathom, she was quite content to betray her share in the plot. By changing hands, the Voodoo stone had transformed Dido into a traitress.
However, as the advantage derived from the transfer was all on the side of the prosecution, Jen did not think it wise to inquire too closely into the means which Dido had employed to regain the talisman. He saw nothing of David, who pointedly kept out of his way. He made no inquiries of Dido, and simply informed the inspector that the negress was ready to explain Etwald's secrets, without telling him why she was willing to do so.
Her Majesty's judges on circuit came to Deanminster, the court was formally opened, and after some trivial cases had been disposed of, the trial of Regina v. Etwald was announced. The hall in which the court sat was crowded with people from far and near. There were even reporters from London, sent down by the great dailies, for the case had obtained more than a local celebrity. Inspector Arkel, with his seven witnesses on behalf of the crown, was at the table before the judges, and with Major Jen had held several conversations with the public prosecutor. David, calm and composed, but paler than a corpse, was in his place glancing over his brief and exchanging curt sentences with Etwald's solicitor. Lastly, Etwald himself, the terrible criminal who, in the eyes of the public, was a hardened and bloodthirsty monster, stepped into the dock. Suave and smiling, he pleaded not guilty to the indictment, and the trial commenced.
The public prosecutor stated the case in all its fullness. The prisoner, said he, was a medical man practicing in Deanminster. He had seen Miss Isabella Dallas, and had fallen in love with the lady, and also--which was more important--with the fortune of the lady. Evidently he had made up his mind that no obstacle should stand in the way of his marriage with Miss Dallas. But it so happened that there was one obstacle--the young lady was in love with Mr. Maurice Alymer, a young gentleman of position, who held a commission in Her Majesty's army. Her love was returned, and the young people were engaged.
Interruption by the prisoner's counsel: "But without the consent of the mother."
The public prosecutor thought that the interruption of his learned friend was out of place; as the refusal of Mrs. Dallas--"mother, gentlemen of the jury, to the young lady engaged to the deceased gentleman, Mr. Maurice Alymer"--had nothing to do with the actual facts of the case. The prisoner, seeing that while Mr. Alymer lived, he could never marry Miss Dallas, determined to rid himself of a rival. The prisoner had been in Barbadoes, and while there he had learned many things concerning African witchcraft, and had become possessor of the Voodoo stone, a talisman which the black race held in peculiar reverence. On his return to England the prisoner had become acquainted with Mrs. Dallas, with the daughter, whom he designed to marry, and with a negress called Dido, the servant of the aforesaid Mrs. Dallas. By means of the Voodoo stone, the prisoner made an absolute slave of the negress, and could command her services at any time, even to the extent of crime.
The counsel for the defense objected to the use of the word crime. Nothing, he submitted, had yet been proved.
Counsel for the prosecution accepted the correction of his learned friend, and withdrew the obnoxious word crime--if not altogether, at all events for the time being. He would resume his explanation of the case. Major Jen, the adopted father of the deceased, possessed a barbaric curiosity called by civilized people the devil-stick; by barbarians the wand of sleep. This he had obtained from Ashantee, where it was used to kill people inimical to the king by the injection of poison. There was no need to describe the devil-stick, as it was on the table, and would be shown to the jury. This devil-stick--
With some impatience prisoner's counsel admitted that the devil-stick had been used to kill the deceased, and requested the prosecutor to pass on to more important details.
The counsel for the crown thanked his learned friend for the admission, and would continue. The devil-stick was stolen by Mrs. Dallas, who committed the theft under the hypnotic influence of the negress Dido. By the direction of Dr. Etwald, Dido refilled the stick with fresh poison, being enabled to manufacture the same from a recipe of her grandmother's--said grandmother having come from Ashantee, where the stick--the devil-stick, be it understood--had been constructed and used. She had given this terrible weapon to the prisoner, who with it had killed Mr. Alymer, his rival.
Counsel for the defense submitted that the crime had yet to be proved. His learned friend was assuming too much.
The public prosecutor said that he asserted no more than he could prove to their lordships and the gentlemen of the jury. The prisoner had killed Mr. Alymer, and it was for this offense that he stood in yonder dock. As regards the theft of the body---
The lesser offense, said prisoner's counsel, was swallowed up and merged in the greater; therefore, he protested against the introduction of the theft of the body.
The judge thought that the two crimes were, judicially speaking, one and the same. It was right that the crown prosecutor should place before him the whole facts of the case. One part might neutralize or enhance or explain the other. The crown prosecutor was quite in order.
Counsel for the prosecution accepted his lordship's ruling and would proceed. The body of Mr. Alymer was taken to the residence of his adopted father. Major Jen. There it was placed in the bedroom which had formerly belonged to the living man. Thence it was stolen by the prisoner.
Counsel for the prisoner: "All this has yet to be proved."
Counsel for the crown: "I shall prove it and at once. The jury are now in possession of all the facts of this very interesting case, and every detail will be confirmed by the most responsible witnesses. Call Major Jen."
Evidence--in brief--of Major Jen: "I was the guardian of the deceased Maurice Alymer. I adopted him as my son. He was in love with, and engaged to, Miss Dallas, but the mother did not approve of the engagement. Dr. Etwald, the prisoner, also loved Miss Dallas, but she refused to marry him. I showed the prisoner the devil-stick and explained its use, whereupon he wished to purchase it. I declined to part with it, and afterward it was stolen. After its disappearance, Mr. Alymer was killed by means of the devil-stick poison. His hand was but slightly scratched, and he could not have died from so trivial a cause had not the weapon used been poisoned. Moreover, I recognized the perfume which emanated from the body as that of the devil-stick poison. Dr. Etwald had threatened the deceased once or twice. Afterward the body of deceased disappeared, and the drug used to stupefy the watcher of the dead was the poison of the devil-stick."
Miss Dallas deposed that she had been engaged to deceased. Prisoner wished to marry her, and was jealous of the late Mr. Alymer. Once or twice he had threatened him. The negress, Dido, was accustomed to hypnotize Mrs. Dallas for nervous headaches. While under the influence of hypnotism Mrs. Dallas would act according to the dictates of Dido. On the night that the devil-stick was stolen from the house of Major Jen, Mrs. Dallas had been hypnotized by Dido. Witness had followed her, and had seen the theft of the stick. Afterward Mrs. Dallas had delivered it into the hands of Dido. Witness never saw the devil-stick again. She had seen Mr. Alymer on the night he was murdered, as he had called to see her. Witness had parted with him at the gates, and had seen him go down the road toward "Ashantee." It was the last time witness saw him. It was well known to witness that Dido was under the influence of Dr. Etwald, on account of the latter possessing the Voodoo stone charm. Dido had manufactured the fresh poison of the devil-stick as a panacea for nervous headache, from which witness suffered. So far as witness knew, deceased was in the best of spirits at the time of his death, and had no intention of putting an end to his life. Witness could swear that prisoner was a bitter and jealous enemy of deceased.
Mrs. Dallas declared that she suffered--like her daughter--from nervous headaches. To cure these she submitted frequently to hypnotic treatment at the hands of Dido, who was gifted with a strong will. On the night the devil-stick was stolen she had been hypnotized, but she did not know what she did while under the influence. While in the trance--as it may be called--she never knew what she did, and she had hitherto had every confidence in Dido, as an old and faithful servant, that she--Dido--would not induce her to do wrong things while hypnotized. She had never seen the devil-stick, either at the house of Major Jen or in her own. The negress had prepared a drug for the cure of headaches, which witness believed was similar--as was judged from the perfume--to the poison contained in the devil-stick. She knew that her daughter wished to marry the deceased, but for certain reasons--not pertinent to the case--she had declined to sanction the engagement. She would not have permitted her daughter to marry Dr. Etwald, as she did not like him or approve of the influence which he exercised over Dido. She knew that prisoner possessed the Voodoo stone, and by means of it could make any member of the black race do his will. Prisoner was a declared enemy of the deceased, as a jealousy existed between them on account of her daughter. In presence of witnesses prisoner had threatened deceased. She knew nothing of the theft of the body.
Lady Meg Brance was called by the prosecution to prove that a certain mendicant, by name Battersea, had offered her the devil-stick for sale as a curiosity. Knowing that it was the weapon with which Mr. Alymer had been killed--according to the reports which were current at the time--she had brought it to Major Jen, along with the tramp.
Battersea entered the witness-box and deposed that he was of mixed negro blood, and by reason of his superstition, under the influence of Dido. At times she hypnotized him, but he did not know when she did it; he thought it was Obi--African witchcraft. Sometimes he carried messages between her and the prisoner. Dr. Etwald had told him to say one single word to Dido--that was "devil-stick." He did not know what it meant. Afterward the devil-stick--as he was told--had disappeared, and Mr. Alymer was murdered. He found the devil-stick on the grass, near the bushes, within the gates of "The Wigwam." Not knowing what it was, he took it to Lady Meg Brance, who sometimes gave him money. She took witness and the devil-stick to Major Jen, who now possessed it. With regard to the stealing of the body, witness said that he saw it placed in a carriage, and by clinging on behind he had traced the carriage to the house of Dr. Etwald, in Deanminster. Prisoner drove the carriage himself. Witness tried to get money out of prisoner by telling what he had seen; but Dr. Etwald had forced him to hold his tongue by threatening him with the vengeance of the Voodoo stone. Being half an African, witness was very much afraid of the charm.
In his turn Jaggard, but lately recovered from his illness, related how he had been drugged by Dido, and how she had been concealed under the bed. After his evidence, which did not take long, had been given, the principal witness for the prosecution was called, and the negress Dido, whose name had been so often mentioned, entered the witness-box.
In brief, her evidence was as follows: "I am a full-blooded negress, born in Barbadoes. My grandmother came from 'Ashantee,' and knew all about the wand of sleep. She taught me how to manufacture the poison. I came to England with my mistress and met with prisoner, who called at the house. He knew a great deal about Obi and showed me the Voodoo stone. A spirit dances in the stone, and I was bound to do what the spirit told me. It said I was to obey prisoner. Dr. Etwald wanted to marry my young mistress, but she was engaged to Mr. Alymer. Prisoner told me that Mr. Alymer must be got out of the way, and suggested the use of the devil-stick, which he had seen in the smoking-room of Major Jen. I agreed to help him, and by hypnotizing my mistress I made her steal the devil-stick. She brought it to me, all unconscious of having done so, and I filled it with fresh poison. On the night of the murder Mr. Alymer called to see my mistress, also Dr. Etwald. When Mr. Alymer left I gave the stick to prisoner, and he followed deceased to kill him. Next day I heard that Mr. Alymer was dead. After a time prisoner told me that we must steal the body, so that traces of poison should not be found when a post-mortem examination was made. I agreed to help him, and gaining admission into the chamber of death I hid under the bed. When Jaggard fell asleep I drugged him with the poison of the devil-stick and opened the window, outside of which prisoner was waiting. I assisted him to carry the body to his carriage, and then left him. That is all I know."
This evidence closed the case for the prosecution, and--as may be guessed--it caused a profound sensation in court. Everyone without exception looked upon the prisoner as guilty, and they considered it futile when David Sarby rose to deliver his speech for the defense. The young man was even paler than usual, and when he rose laid down the devil-stick, at which he had been looking. When on his feet he glanced round the court and caught the gaze of Isabella, who was staring eagerly at him. Then he turned to his client. Dr. Etwald, still composed--even after the frightful evidence which had been given--smiled coldly on his counsel. David shuddered, and picking up the devil-stick spoke sharply and to the point.
"My lord and gentlemen of the jury, you have heard the evidence of the crown, which makes out that my client is guilty. That evidence is wrong, as can be proved by one witness. I am the witness. In my rooms there is lying a confession, signed and witnessed, which sets forth that I am the guilty person. It was I, not Dr. Etwald, who murdered Maurice Alymer." (Sensation in the court.) "Yes. I was in love with Miss Dallas, and therefore was jealous of Maurice. I knew that Dido possessed the devil-stick--how, it does not matter--and I bribed her to give it to me. I pretended to go to London on the night of the murder, but instead of doing so I remained in the grounds of Mrs. Dallas, where I obtained the devil-stick from Dido. I saw Maurice meet with Miss Dallas. I saw them kiss and part. Inflamed by jealousy, I rushed after him and met him on the road. He turned in surprise, and flung out his arms to keep me off. The devil-stick, with its poison fang protruding, was in my grasp, and in throwing out his arm I wounded him in the palm of the hand, thus--"
David took the devil-stick firmly in his grasp and compressed the handle. At once the iron tongue with its drop of venom appeared. With the sharp point he made an irregular wound on the palm of his hand, and cast the devil-stick on the table before him. A moment afterward, amid the silent horror of the crowded court, he fell down--dead.