THE STORY OF THE NIGHT.
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."