"We shall see," replied Jen, who was as obstinate as a mule on some points. "I am no fool."
"Certainly not," rejoined Etwald, with something like a sneer; "but you are also no detective."
"That we shall see," retorted the major, vexed by the sarcasm, and thereupon gave Etwald to understand by look and manner that he wished to be alone with David. When the doctor had taken himself off, and was walking past the library windows toward the curve of the avenue where it ran into the woods, Jen looked after him with a lowering face, and laid an inquiring finger on David's arm.
"Do you trust that man, my boy?" he asked, gravely.
"No," returned Sarby, after a pause. "I think he is a bad lot."
"I am sure of it, and what's more," added Jen, nodding, "it is my opinion that he knows who killed Maurice, if indeed he did not do it himself."
David shook his head.
"I don't think so," said he, with conviction. "Why should he kill Maurice?"
"The lad was his rival."
"Mine also, major. Yet you don't suspect me of the deed."