England -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Trials (Murder) -- Fiction
On arriving at "The Wigwam," Jen presented his card, and was shown
into the drawing-room, there to wait the arrival of Mrs. Dallas.
Although it was nearly eleven o'clock the indolent Creole was not yet
out of bed, but on hearing that the major had called to see her, she
sent Dido to inform him that she would shortly accord him an
interview. The negress, as gloomy and sullen as ever, delivered this
message with folded arms and bent head. Then, without even a look at
him, she turned to leave the room, when Jen placed himself between her
and the door.
"Not yet. Dido," he said, in a cold voice. "It is true that I called
to see your mistress; but I wish to speak to you also."
Dido started, and cast an inquiring look at the impassive face of the
white man.
"What you wish, sah?" she said, in a grave voice, as emotionless as
that of Jen's.
"To ask you a few questions about the devil-stick."
"Massa, I say all I know ob de debble-stick!"
"Indeed, you did not. Dido. You did not inform me that by Dr. Etwald's
directions you filled the devil-stick with poison, or that you steeped
the handkerchief found in the room of Mr. Alymer in the same poison
for the purpose of drugging my servant; or again, that you concealed
yourself under the bed, and afterward drugged him."
A kind of terror showed itself in the dilated eyes of the negress. She
could not understand how Jen had become possessed of a knowledge of
her crimes, and at first was struck with stupor by the recital.
Speedily, however, she recovered herself, and with a dark smile of
contempt and pity she was about to deny all, when Jen brought out his
last accusation.
"Nor," said he, fixing his eyes on the woman, "did you confess that
you opened the window of Mr. Alymer's room, and aided Dr. Etwald to
carry away the dead body?"
"De--de--dead--dead!" she stammered, shrinking back.
"Yes, the dead body of Mr. Alymer, which you and Dr. Etwald took to
his house at Deanminster. No denial, woman," said Jen, raising his
voice, as she was about to speak. "I see by your face that you are
guilty."
Dido trembled all over, whether from rage or fear Jen could not
determine, and opened her mouth to give the lie to her accuser. Then
she shut it again, as a heavy step was heard outside the door. A
moment later and Mrs. Dallas, with a face expressive of astonishment,
was standing on the threshold of the room; and Dido at her feet was
making the room resound like a jungle with howlings like those of a
wild beast. All the savage nature of the woman was now on the surface,
and had broken through the sullen restraint of her impassive demeanor.
"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Mrs. Dallas, with an uneasy
glance at the frantic negress.
"I shall explain when Dido stops her howling," said Jen, quite
undisturbed.
"Dido! Dido!" remonstrated Mrs. Dallas, shaking the woman. "Rise;
stop."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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