"Yes; he is in love with you." "I know he is," replied the girl, quietly. "But, of course, I could never be his wife; the more so, as I fear him. But Dido wishes me to marry him." "Oh, hang Dido!" cried Maurice, vigorously. "I wish she would mind her own business." At this moment, as if summoned by his remark, Dido appeared round the bend of the path. She looked straight before her, turning neither to right nor left, and passed the pair like one in a sleeping fit. The negress seemed to be under the influence of some strange excitement, and ran stumbling down to the gate. "Voodoo! Voodoo!" she cried, hoarsely. "Oh," said Isabella, nervously, "Dr. Etwald must be at hand. When Dido says 'Voodoo' he comes." CHAPTER V. DR. ETWALD'S WARNING. "When Dido says 'Voodoo' he comes," repeated Maurice, greatly puzzled. "Are you talking of Dr. Etwald?" "Yes. He seems to possess some strange power over Dido, for she always knows when he is approaching. See, Maurice, Dido is waiting at the gate; in a few moments you will see Dr. Etwald enter it." The two young people looked steadfastly at the brilliantly-colored figure of the negress, standing in a statuesque attitude near the great iron gate. On either side of her waved the summer foliage of the trees; overhead the sun, like a burning eye, looked down from a cloudless sky, and beyond, the dusty white road showed distinctly through the slender bars of the gate. All was bright and cheerful and English, but in that sinister red figure, with its black face and hands, there was a suggestion of evil which seemed to dominate and poison the whole beautiful scene. Maurice felt Isabella shudder with nervous dread as she pressed closely to his side. "Dearest, you must not be afraid," said he, glancing down anxiously at her face. "You must throw off the terror you have of this woman. If the law--" At this moment he broke off his speech with an ejaculation of surprise, for, true to the prognostication of Isabella--in answer to the expectant attitude of the negress--Dr. Etwald turned in at the gate. "Ho! ho!" murmured Maurice, rather taken back. "So the art of devil-raising is not a lost one after all. Dido can still call spirits from the vasty deep." "She has called flesh and blood," said Isabella, with a shiver. "But there is nothing strange about Dr. Etwald's appearance just now. Dido did not call him; she simply felt that he was at hand, and went to meet him at the gate." They continued to watch the pair, and saw Dido throw herself at the feet of Etwald, who raised his hand over her in a threatening manner. He pointed into the wood with an imperious gesture, and in a slinking attitude the usually stately Dido passed out of sight into the little path down which Isabella had come to meet Maurice. When the gleam of her red dress disappeared Etwald wiped his face and walked briskly up the avenue toward the young couple. "Shall we go on or wait for him here?" asked Isabella in a whisper.