“Come in,” said Carteret.

Jerry entered.  “Mistuh Ellis wants ter speak ter you a minute, suh,” he said.

Carteret excused himself and left the room.

“Jerry,” said the general, “you lump of ebony, the sight of you reminds me!  If your master doesn’t want you for a minute, step across to Mr. Brown’s and tell him to send me three cocktails.”

“Yas, suh,” responded Jerry, hesitating.  The general had said nothing about paying.

“And tell him, Jerry, to charge them.  I’m short of change to-day.”

“Yas, suh; yas, suh,” replied Jerry, as he backed out of the presence, adding, when he had reached the hall:  “Dere ain’ no change fer Jerry dis time, sho’:  I’ll jes’ make dat fo’ cocktails, an’ de gin’l won’t never know de diffe’nce.  I ain’ gwine ‘cross de road fer nothin’, not ef I knows it.”

Half an hour later, the conspirators dispersed.  They had fixed the hour of the proposed revolution, the course to be pursued, the results to be obtained; but in stating their equation they had overlooked one factor,—­God, or Fate, or whatever one may choose to call the Power that holds the destinies of man in the hollow of his hand.

XXX

THE MISSING PAPERS

Mrs. Carteret was very much disturbed.  It was supposed that the shock of her aunt’s death had affected her health, for since that event she had fallen into a nervous condition which gave the major grave concern.  Much to the general surprise, Mrs. Ochiltree had left no will, and no property of any considerable value except her homestead, which descended to Mrs. Carteret as the natural heir.  Whatever she may have had on hand in the way of ready money had undoubtedly been abstracted from the cedar chest by the midnight marauder, to whose visit her death was immediately due.  Her niece’s grief was held to mark a deep-seated affection for the grim old woman who had reared her.

Mrs. Carteret’s present state of mind, of which her nervousness was a sufficiently accurate reflection, did in truth date from her aunt’s death, and also in part from the time of the conversation with Mrs. Ochiltree, one afternoon, during and after the drive past Miller’s new hospital.  Mrs. Ochiltree had grown steadily more and more childish after that time, and her niece had never succeeded in making her pick up the thread of thought where it had been dropped.  At any rate, Mrs. Ochiltree had made no further disclosure upon the subject.

An examination, not long after her aunt’s death, of the papers found near the cedar chest on the morning after the murder had contributed to Mrs. Carteret’s enlightenment, but had not promoted her peace of mind.

When Mrs. Carteret reached home, after her hurried exploration of the cedar chest, she thrust into a bureau drawer the envelope she had found.  So fully was her mind occupied, for several days, with the funeral, and with the excitement attending the arrest of Sandy Campbell, that she deferred the examination of the contents of the envelope until near the end of the week.