"Oh, missy! missy!" wept the negress, getting onto her feet. "It all am a lie, what dat massa say. Poo' ole Dido know nuffin'--do nuffin'. Lordy! Lordy! de big lie." Major Jen took Dido by the shoulder, and giving her a good shake, commanded her to be silent. At once the negress--who was evidently acting a part--ceased her outcries, and after casting her eyes significantly at her mistress, stared sullenly at the floor. Mrs. Dallas turned pale at this rapid glance, and was obliged to take a seat to prevent herself from falling. Not a detail of this by-play was lost upon Jen, who saw in the conduct of mistress and servant a confirmation of his suspicions. However, he added nothing to his previous speech, but merely recapitulated--for the benefit of Mrs. Dallas--the points of his accusation against the negress. Dido heard him in silence, but this time she made neither outcry nor denial. Mrs. Dallas appeared to be horrified by the recital. Every now and then she cast a look of terror at Dido, while passing her handkerchief over her white lips. When the major concluded she could only shake her head and stammer a few words. "It can not be true," she murmured. "It is impossible." "It is a fact," insisted Jen. "I have the evidence of Jaggard to prove that Dido was in the room on that night." "Dido," cried Mrs. Dallas, in a trembling voice, "is this true?" The negress raised her wild eyes slowly to the face of her mistress. What she saw therein evidently determined her reply. Without a word she bent her head. "Ah," cried Jen, "you admit your guilt?" "No," said Dido, bluntly, "I say dat I in de room, but I no kill dat man." "But you filled the devil-stick with fresh poison?" "No," said Dido again. "I saw no debble-stick." "It was found in these grounds." "Dat so; but I not see dat debble-stick." "Woman," cried Jen, with energy, "no one but you could manufacture the poison with which the devil-stick was filled." "Dat I know; but I no fill de debble-stick." "Then who did?" Dido hesitated, looked at Mrs. Dallas, and came out with a lie. "I don't know," she said, in a stolid tone. Her mistress rose to her feet and approached the major. "Do you mean to say that Dido killed Mr. Alymer?" she asked, nervously. "No; but she supplied the means to the man who did." "The man who did!" "Yes; Dr. Etwald." "Dr. Etwald!" repeated Mrs. Dallas, in what seemed to Jen to be a tone of relief. "Why do you think he killed Mr. Alymer?" "Because Maurice was engaged to your daughter, whom he wished to marry. Etwald killed my poor lad, so as to remove a dangerous rival from his path." "Impossible." "By no means; and Dido manufactured the poison which was used." Mrs. Dallas considered. "I know to what you allude," she said, after a pause. "Dido does manufacture the drug, but only for the cure of nervous headaches." "Or to kill men with," rejoined Jen, ironically; "or to drug the watchers of the dead."