"About that, sir. I lighted it just after dinner, while you and the major were over your wine, so to speak, sir."
"And the room was in darkness--that is, comparative darkness--before then," mused Maurice. "I don't think anyone could have seen the devil-stick unless the lamp was lighted. Was it gone when you lighted up?"
"I didn't observe, sir!"
"Very good, Jaggard," broke in the major, "you can go. Maurice!" he turned to the young man when Jaggard left the room, "what do you mean by all these questions and examinations? Do you suspect anyone?"
"Yes," replied Maurice, deliberately. "I suspect Dido, the negress."
"Why?" asked Jen, with military brevity.
"It's a long story," returned Maurice, lighting a fresh cigar. "Look here, Uncle Jen, I went to dress at half-past six; you did also. When we left the devil-stick was in the room on the wall. Now we are here again at half-past eight, the devil-stick is gone. In these two hours Dido has had time to cross the lawn yonder and steal it."
"But why do you suspect Dido?"
"Because the room was in darkness, as you heard Jaggard say. To steal that stick the thief must have known its position on the wall."
"Well, Dido didn't know that; she was never in this room."