the sensation caused by the news that the dead body of maurice alymer had been stolen was even greater than that occasioned by the discovery of the murder. even the london papers took up the matter, and sent down reporters to make investigations and build up theories as to the reason of this strange disappearance. everywhere people were talking of the matter, and giving their opinions as to the proper course to be pursued in recovering the corpse. would-be detectives haunted the roads and lanes around "ashantee"; they would have penetrated into the park itself but for the vigilance of major jen.

his attitude at this moment was rather displeasing to his friends. he refused to permit anyone to see the chamber whence the body had been stolen, and even declined to discuss the matter or accept advice as to the best thing to be done. to all who spoke to him--and these were many--he had but one reply.

"i know what i am doing," he would say, a trifle tartly, "and i prefer to keep my own counsel. if the murderer of my dear boy can be found, he or she will be found by me. if the wretch who stole his body can be discovered, i am the man to make that discovery. how i intend to set about it is my own affair."

of course, busybodies, who saw their well-meant but meddlesome advice thus rejected, were by no means pleased, and some even went so far as to say that the shock of death and disappearance had unsettled jen's reason. they spoke to david and counseled him to look well after his guardian, and said also that the major, if he had his senses about him, which was doubtful, should engage a smart london detective to investigate the case. but, as has been before stated, jen had concluded to be his own detective.

it must be conceded that for an amateur, the major set about his unaccustomed task in a very methodical manner. he offered a reward of five hundred pounds for the detection of the murderer, and a further sum of the like amount to anyone who should discover the thief who had desecrated the chamber of death. these munificent rewards set everybody on the alert, and jen, without putting down actual money, thus became possessed of some hundreds of spies who would bring him any information likely to assist him in his investigation. also, the major examined all the servants in the house. he questioned sampson, the young policeman who had been in the kitchen on the night when the body had been stolen, and finally he paid a visit to the police office at deanminster, where he saw mr. inspector arkel.

"well, arkel," said jen, after the first greetings were over, "have you any clew?"

"no, major," replied arkel, rather gruffly, for disappointment was beginning to tell on his temper, "nor are we likely to find any until that servant of yours regains his senses. how is he now?"

"in a state of high fever, poor soul," said jen, with a depressed look. "he does nothing but rave. yet, in all his wild talk he never lets slip a single word likely to help us."

"that's a pity, major. by the way, i questioned dr. etwald about the matter, and he is of opinion that the man was stunned by a blow on the head."

"i know that. i can only suppose that jaggard fell asleep at his post and woke up in time to see the men getting in by the window. a struggle would then ensue, and he would be struck on the head, as etwald supposes."

"i don't agree with that theory. there are flaws in it."

"yes?" queried jen, eagerly. "i am open to correction. please go on."

"we will proceed on the questions and answers system," said arkel, precisely, "and thrash out the matter in that way. you were in the library on that night?"

"yes, i saw all was right in the house at twelve o' clock, and i slept on in my chair from that hour until three."

"good, then between twelve and three the body must have been stolen. you are a light sleeper, i heard you say, major?"

"well, yes," returned jen, with a thought upon the rapping of isabella upon the window. "it does not take much to waken me."

"you would have heard jaggard call out, i suppose?"

"certainly. the bedroom is no great distance from the library, and the door of the latter was open. but then jaggard didn't cry out!"

"precisely," said arkel, laying his forefinger on jen's chest with an air of triumph. "he did not cry out. had he been asleep and woke up in time to see the robbers get in by the window, he would have called out at once for assistance."

"true enough," rejoined the major, struck by this sensible deduction. "still, he might not have heard them forcing the window."

"i doubt that, i doubt that. jaggard, like yourself, is an old campaigner, and no doubt an alert sleeper; that is," explained arkel, "he would wake up at the least sound."

"yes, i think he would. but what does all this tend to?"

"simply to a theory i have in my head. jaggard was drugged, sir."

"but the wound at the back of the head which stunned him?"

"there you have it," cried arkel, with a nod. "the wound at the back of the head was caused by his falling like a log when he was drugged."

"h'm! this is all building on sand," said jen, doubtfully. "even to drug him, these men must have entered by the window."

"no. do you not remember when we examined the window that it was opened from the inside?"

"egad, you are right. then you think that someone must have been concealed in the room, and sprung out from hiding to drug jaggard."

"no," said arkel again, "no one was concealed in the room."

"confound it, man, you don't mean to say that jaggard opened the window?" cried jen, starting from his seat with some show of temper.

"ay, but i do, major. jaggard helped to steal the body of mr. alymer. he opened the window to admit his accomplices. when they fulfilled their task and got the body out of the room they turned on jaggard and betrayed him. that is, they drugged him and knocked him down."

"i don't agree with you at all, arkel. jaggard is perfectly honest and was as devoted to maurice as he is to me. besides, even granting the possibility of such a thing, which i do not in the least, why should jaggard's accomplices betray him?"

"i can't say," returned arkel, shrugging his shoulders. "they may have been bribed to steal the body, and on accomplishing their task did not want to share the bribe with jaggard."

"rubbish!" said jen, tartly. "they must have known that he would betray them when he recovered his senses!"

"no doubt. but in the meantime they would make themselves scarce. jaggard has been insensible or raving for over a week, major. the scoundrels counted on that!"

"i say again that i believe in jaggard's honesty, and i do not agree with you," said jen, putting on his hat, "and after all, i do not see how you deduce this drugging theory!"

"oh, as to that, i was once a bit of a chemist," explained arkel; "and when you took me to see jaggard i smelt a curious perfume which seemed to be hanging about him. as a servant is not likely to use perfumes, i thought it curious."

"what kind of a perfume?"

"i can't exactly describe it. a rich, heavy, deadly sort of thing, likely, i should think, to dull the sharpest senses."

"did etwald notice it?" asked jen, thoughtfully.

"yes; but he professes his inability to explain it. he thinks the man was stunned and not drugged. i think, on the grounds i have explained, that he was first drugged and then stunned."

"h'm; it's queer! i'll have to think it over. but when the body was taken out of the window, arkel?"

"the thieves carried it across the lawn!"

"then down through the bushes to that winding lane, i suppose?" said jen. "i know all that; but afterward?"

"they put it into a cart and took it away."

"how do you know that?" asked the major, all on the alert.

"why," said arkel, fingering his fat chin, "it was raining, as you may remember on that night."

"not until after the body had been stolen," returned jen, mindful that isabella had come into the library dry-shod.

"how do you know that?" asked the inspector sharply.

jen was rather taken aback by the quickness of this query, and saw that if he wished to preserve the secret of isabella, upon which depended her reputation, it behooved him to be careful.

"well," said he cautiously, "i looked out at the night when the hour was twelve, and--"

"it might have rained between that time and three," said arkel, with swift interruption; "and i believe it did rain, for you see, major, we found the mark of wheels in the lane, which would not have been left had not a considerable amount of rain fallen."

"did you follow the trail?" asked the major, waiving the question of rain or no rain.

arkel made a gesture of disappointment.

"to the high road only," said he; "and there the wheel marks became mixed up with those of other vehicles. lord knows where they took the body to, for once on the high road they had the wide, wide world to choose from. it's the devil's own mystery," he said, biting his finger. "i never met the like of it before, and am fairly puzzled. why should these wretches steal the mortal remains of a murdered man?"

"true," said jen; "and why should these wretches have murdered that man?"

arkel looked up sharply.

"as to that," he said, "we are by no means certain that they are the same."

"i don't follow you."

"no? and yet it is easy enough. if those who slew mr. alymer wanted his body, they could have stolen it on the high road, where they struck him down. it was mere foolishness to venture liberty and life in a raid upon the house."

"it may have been an afterthought."

"people don't have afterthoughts in grim matters of this kind," said arkel, rising. "well, major, good-by, good-by. should i learn anything else i shall let you know; but depend upon it, the truth of the matter is to come from jaggard."

"he is honest. honest!" cried jen. "i'll stake my existence upon that."

when riding homeward after this interesting conversation, the major could not but admit to himself that arkel had brightened up wonderfully in his intellects since first taking charge of the case. the man was not brilliant, not even clever; yet in the present instance he displayed more readiness of resource than jen would have given him credit for. the theory of the drugging was worthy of investigation, and the major determined to see if anything could be discovered likely to support this view of the matter. he still held to his belief in jaggard's honesty, for it was incredible that an old servant of thirty years' standing should turn traitor at once; but he thought it probable that someone might have taken him by surprise and drugged him. but as the window was closed the person in question must have been concealed in the room. here jen's train of thought became confused.

"i don't see how anybody can have been in the room," he reflected, as he entered his house. "i saw that all was safe myself at midnight. the servants were abed, sampson keeping vigil in the kitchen, and jaggard sentry in the death-room. moreover, i left the library door open, and the sound of footsteps stealing to the door of my poor lad would have wakened me out of the deepest sleep. isabella's raps were light enough, yet i was up on the instant. no, i can't see myself that the devil who drugged the man could have been in the house; and yet the window opened from the inside. h'm! it is strange; very strange. i wish jaggard were able to talk sensibly."

but jaggard was far from the condition of connected thought or coherent words. he turned and tossed upon his poor bed with bright eyes, burning skin and babbling tongue. his head was swathed in bandages, and the housemaid who watched beside him had frequently to replace the clothes he tossed off in his violent movements. this nurse was a sickly, dark-eyed creature, who was strongly attached to jaggard; and it was her love for him that made her proffer her services to look after him, and that chained her to his bedside. she reported to her master that dr. etwald had been in that morning, and was coming again in the afternoon, but that there was nothing to be done until the delirium had expended itself.

"ay," thought jen, as he stood by the bed, "or until the man dies. if he dies without regaining his senses, we will never know the truth."

he bent down to replace the bedclothes which the sick man had thrown off, and as he did so, a faint perfume, sickly and rich, struck his nostrils. it seemed to come from the bandages at the back of the head, and on bending down for a closer inspection, jen saw that one of these--it was the merest corner which peeped out--was of finer linen than the rest. the fabric was cambric, and with a start which made the blood turn to ice in his veins, jen realized that it was a woman's handkerchief--its delicacy and border-embroideries assured him of this.

"how came this here?" he asked the housemaid, pointing to the scrap of linen.

"oh, that was on the first night, sir," she hastened to explain. "it was put on his head when in the room where he fell, sir. the doctor, sir, says as it ain't safe to take it away yet."

a curtain interposed between the head of the patient and the light of the window. this jen drew aside, and lightly removed the outside wrappings of the wound. the housemaid looked on in horror, for she did not dare to prevent her master from meddling, yet she felt sure that he was doing wrong. but jen was bent on making the discovery as to whom the handkerchief belonged; and in a few minutes he had the outside bandages removed, and saw the handkerchief discolored with dry blood lying over the wound. with deft fingers he lightly touched the four corners. in one of them were the initials "m. d."

"m. d.!" said the major to himself. "margaret dallas, the mother of isabella. how did her handkerchief come into the room on that night? and the perfume?"

it struck his sense of smell with the belief that he had smelt it before. nothing is so strong to awaken memory as odor, and in less than half a minute the mind of the major leaped back to where he had smelt it before. it was the perfume of the dried poison of the devil-stick.