exhausted by the few words which he had spoken, jaggard fell back on his pillows in a dead faint. seeing that further conversation was impossible at the present moment, jen left the patient to the tender attention of anne, and withdrew to seek david. he found him in a melancholy mood, pacing up and down the lawn before the window of the smoking-room. on perceiving his guardian, sarby turned pale, for he thought that jen had come to continue their previous conversation, and so force his confidence. but the first words of the major at once undeceived him.
"well, david!" said the newcomer, with significance, "i have made one discovery without your help."
"a discovery. what is it?"
"i know who drugged jaggard. i have learned who stole the body of maurice!"
"then you know more than i do," replied david, with all the appearance of truth. "my knowledge extends only to the death; not to the seizure of the body."
"and you refuse to aid me," said the major, reproachfully; "well, keep your secret, i may be able to do without your help. but," added jen, fixing a piercing glance on the young man, "i notice that you do not ask me the name of the person who drugged jaggard."
"because i guess the name."
"ah!"
"mrs. dallas," said david, faintly. "it was mrs. dallas."
jen drew back a step and looked at his ward with marked surprise.
"no," he said, at length. "mrs. dallas has had nothing to do with it."
"but i thought from what you said of the handkerchief dropped in the room--"
"that being the property of mrs. dallas, she had lost it there," interrupted jen, smartly. "no. i told you also that isabella had confessed to having dropped it at the time of her midnight visit. but now i know that she told me a lie!"
"isabella! a lie! impossible!"
"not at all," rejoined jen, coldly. "i can understand her reason for telling the lie. she wanted to shield--"
"her mother!" cried david, quickly interrupting in his turn.
"your mind seems to run on the mother, david," said jen, looking again at sarby with keen inquisitiveness. "can you prove by any chance that she committed the crime?"
sarby flushed and drew back with cold reserve.
"no, uncle jen, i can't. i have my suspicions."
"against mrs. dallas?"
"well, yes; but i can prove nothing against her."
"it pleases you to be mysterious, david. shortly i shall insist upon an explanation."
"insist!" repeated the young man, annoyed by the peremptory tone of his guardian.
"yes. you owe it to me--your second father--to tell the truth. you owe it to your dead brother's memory--for assuredly maurice was your brother."
david stared sullenly at the ground, but in a moment or two he lifted his head in a defiant manner.
"i owe you much more than i can ever repay," said he, in harsh tones. "all the same, uncle jen, i cannot reveal, even to you, what i know. if i did so, you would be the first to blame me."
"i don't understand you."
"i don't understand myself," said the young man, despondently, "save that i am the most miserable man alive."
"you must be, if you know who killed maurice, yet refuse to confess," retorted jen, with some heat. "will you tell me the truth? i ask you for the last time."
"and i answer for the last time that the truth is not mine to tell," replied david, coldly. "if you doubt me question etwald."
"what! that criminal?"
david looked up quickly.
"how do you know he is a criminal?"
"i can't give you my reasons. they would take too long to explain. but i believe that out of jealousy he killed maurice."
"oh," said sarby, ironically; "and out of jealousy he stole the body?"
"no. dido did that."
"dido?"
an expression of surprise appeared on the pale face of the younger man.
"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."
"i don't quite understand."
"listen, then, and i shall explain," resumed the major, with growing excitement. "i firmly believe that etwald stole the devil-stick, and with it killed maurice."
"from a motive of jealousy?"
"precisely. as you know the body was stolen before the post-mortem examination could be made. why was this? does not your own reason find an answer to that question?"
"no," replied david, still obstinately unconvinced.
"why," said jen, with a nod, "if a post-mortem examination had been made, traces of poison would have been discovered. the poison would have been proved as identical with that of the devil-stick. thus, beyond all doubt, we should have learned that maurice had been killed by the devil-stick."
"well?"
"well!" repeated jen, in an irritated tone, "can you not rouse that dull brain of yours to some understanding? to avert the discovery, and to prevent the analysis of the poison in the body. dido, under the direction of dr. etwald, committed the third crime."
"but why should dido act so under etwald?"
"because the man has some power over her. what that power may be, i know no more than you do. although," added jen, with an afterthought, "you may be able to explain."
"no. i have no idea why dido should serve etwald."
evidently it was impossible to extract information from so impenetrable a man. jen was thoroughly enraged by this display of obstinacy in a quarter where he least expected to find it. usually sweet-tempered--especially toward his boys--the major quite lost control of his passion at the moment.
"take care, david," he said, in an angry manner. "you are forcing me to believe that you are acting in this way from an unworthy motive. it is your duty to aid me in discovering and punishing the murderer of maurice. yet you leave me to do all the work and refuse your assistance in any way. unless you alter your manner, and take me into your confidence regarding the reason of this strange behavior, a breach not easily mended may occur between us."
he paused, waiting for his ward to make some reply in defense of his conduct. the young man neither moved nor spoke, but, paler than usual, he stood before the major with his eyes on the ground. more in sorrow than in anger, jen looked at him, then turned on his heel with a shrug, and walked into the house. david looked after him with quivering lips.
"if he only knew the truth," said he, wiping the perspiration from his face, "what would he say? what would he do? he blames me now; would he blame me then?"
in the meantime, while sarby was indulging in this enigmatical soliloquy. major jen was pursuing his way toward the room of jaggard. despairing of obtaining information from david he thought it possible to learn the truth--at all events of that fatal night--from jaggard. honestly speaking the major was puzzled by the conduct of his ward. hitherto, he had always considered david to be an honest man, but at the present time his conduct savored of duplicity. did he know of anything relative to the triple crime which had been committed? if so, why did he not speak? finally, was david also under the fatal influence of dr. etwald--the man who, jen verily believed, was the source of all these woes?
to none of these questions could the major find feasible answers; therefore for the time being--i.e., pending the narration of jaggard--he dismissed them from his mind. it was possible that the story of the invalid might throw light on the darkness which overshadowed the case.
as jen anticipated, he found that jaggard had recovered from his faint, and having had a sleep during the long absence of his master, was much better. as usual, anne, the ill-favored housemaid, was watching by his bedside; but on a sign from jen, she left the room. finding himself alone with his servant, jen addressed himself immediately to the business in hand.
"do you feel stronger, jaggard?" he asked.
"much stronger, sir."
"are you able to talk?"
"i think so, major--for half-an-hour, at least!"
"half-an-hour will be sufficient," said the major, in a serious voice. "i wish you to tell me what took place on the night you were drugged."
"about dido, sir?"
"yes, jaggard, about dido."
the invalid remained silent for a time, then began to speak slowly and with some little difficulty.
"after you left me, sir," he said in a weak voice, "i remained seated in my chair beside the bedside of my poor young master. if you remember there was only one candle in the room, which was placed on the table, some little distance away. i examined the window and found it closed."
"you are sure of that?" demanded jen, anxiously.
"quite sure, sir. it was bolted and barred. the door was simply closed, for i never thought of locking it, as i fancied, sir, that you might return after midnight to see if all was right."
"i did not, however, jaggard. i fell asleep in the library, after mr. sarby had gone to bed; and, of course, i had every confidence in you."
"please don't say that, major," said jaggard, imploringly, "as i did my best. it was not my fault that dido drugged me. i'm sure i don't know why she did so," continued jaggard, half to himself. "i never did her any harm."
the major looked fixedly at the man.
"do you not know what occurred during the time you were insensible?" he asked, gravely.
"no, sir. i've only got my wits about me now."
"has not anne told you?"
"she hasn't told me anything, sir."
"well," said jen, seeing that the man spoke in all good faith, "the body of mr. maurice was stolen on that night."
"the body stolen!" repeated jaggard, in amazement. "for why, sir?"
"i can't tell, nor can anybody else. all we know is that at three o'clock in the morning we entered mr. maurice's room and found the window open, the body gone, and you insensible."
"the window open," said jaggard, thoughtfully. "then it must have been opened from the inside, sir."
"by dido, no doubt."
"i'm certain of it, major; and it was that black witch who stole the body."
"how did she get into the room?"
"she was hidden under the bed, sir."
"under the bed! are you sure?" said jen, greatly startled by this information.
"yes, major. it was this way. i was seated by the bed, at the foot of it, with my face to the door. the window, as i said, was locked. she could not have got in at the window, and had she entered by the door i should have seen her. besides," added jaggard, in a faint voice, "she grabbed me from behind."
"from behind?"
"yes, sir. i was not quite asleep, but a kind of dozing in my chair. i don't know what it was made me sleepy, as i was wideawake when you left, sir. but there was a kind of heavy, sleepy smell about."
"i know, i know--the devil-stick perfume."
"well, sir, the smell made me sleepy; and though i heard a noise behind me i could not turn my head. i was just as if in a nightmare, sir. then the black arm of that witch came from behind me and grabbed at my throat, and she held a handkerchief with that stuff on it to my nose."
"ah," said jen, to himself, "i knew that isabella was speaking falsely. go on, jaggard," he added aloud. "why did you not call out?"
"i couldn't, sir. i felt as in a dream; but i turned and tried to fight her. she pushed me over, and i fell like a log. i think i must have hit my head on a corner of the bed, for i felt a cruel pain at the back of it."
"you did wound your head, jaggard; and after that fall you remembered no more?"
"no, sir, not till to-day. i don't know what it all means, sir, but i'm sure i know how dido got into the room."
"ah! that is what i wish to learn. well?"
"if you remember, sir. dido called to see you that day."
"yes. to ask if i would see her mistress; a most unnecessary question."
"it was a blind, sir; and when she left the room i don't believe she left the house."
"what makes you think so?"
"sir, i took dido out to the door, and while i was telling her to go away. dr. etwald came out. he told me he would see after her, and i left them alone. now, sir," said jaggard, with emphasis, "i do believe as dr. etwald took that black jade to the room of mr. maurice and hid her under the bed."