When the major had seen her carriage drive away he returned to look after the devil-stick, and examined it long and carefully. Undoubtedly it had been filled with fresh poison, and undoubtedly the poison, from the evidence heretofore set forth, had been prepared by Dido. Jen was more certain than ever that Etwald and the negress had stolen the devil-stick and had slain Maurice with it. But the theft of the body! It was that which puzzled him. He could understand why Etwald wanted Maurice removed from his path. He could explain, on those grounds, why the devil-stick had been stolen. But what reason could the pair have for the removal of the body? The poor boy had died, and his corpse could be of no use to those who had murdered him. Yet it had disappeared, and the only person who could give any evidence as to who had entered the room on that fatal night was Jaggard. But up to the present moment Jaggard had remained incapable of giving any clear evidence. Absolutely certain that Etwald was guilty, that Dido was an accomplice, Jen could not see his way to proving his case without the assistance of Jaggard.
At first he thought of going into Deanminster for the purpose of speaking with Inspector Arkel about the discovery of the devil-stick; but upon reflection he deemed it wiser not to do so, at all events for the present. Arkel could come only to the same conclusion as himself--namely, that Battersea, innocent of the crime, had picked up the devil-stick on the grounds of Mrs. Dallas. Regarding his suspicions of Etwald, the major determined to keep these to himself until he was in a position to prove them; for if Etwald were guilty, the slightest hint that the police were on his track would be sufficient to put him on his guard. Against so clever a man as the doctor, Arkel, with his clumsy methods, could do nothing. For the present, therefore, Jen decided to hold his tongue.
While the major was thus considering what step he should take, David, returning from a long and solitary walk, entered the room. Of late the young man had indulged in these lonely excursions, whence he always returned more melancholy than ever. His fine face was lean and worn, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his manner, formerly noted for its composure, was now nervous and hesitating. On approaching his guardian he saw the devil-stick on the table, and at once his pale face grew yet paler.
"Where did you find it?" he asked, pointing a trembling finger at the terrible piece of evidence.
"I did not find it at all," rejoined the major, gloomily; "Lady Meg brought it to me."
"And she--she----"
"She has nothing to do with the matter," replied Jen, surprised at the agitation of the young man. "It was Battersea who found it. He offered it for sale to Lady Meg, and she brought it and the tramp to me."
"Battersea!" said David, repeating the name in a puzzled tone. "How did he become possessed of it? Has he anything to do with the crime?"
"No. He found the devil-stick within the grounds of Mrs. Dallas, near the gates."
"Who lost it there?" asked Sarby, abruptly.