Now it so happened that the attorneys for the defense had consulted with a chemist, who was in the court room by request. At this juncture he was called to the stand. He was asked a number of questions, and then Ethel was again placed on the stand.

"Now, madame, the court has decided to investigate this matter thoroughly. You are positive Jean Baptiste, here, killed your sister, also your father? You remember, of course, in giving your testimony, that we are going to investigate the case and prosecute for perjury!" She had been seen to raise her handkerchief to her eyes with the first announcement regarding the investigation. Now she uttered a loud cry as the tears flowed unchecked. Suddenly she dropped her handkerchief, and with her arms stretched forward, she screamed:

"No, no! Orlean, Orlean! Oh, my God, Orlean!" And in the next instant she would have fallen in a dead faint had those near not caught her. For this is how it happened.

When the family returned from the court house, Orlean had retired at once, complaining of a headache. Since she had very often since her father brought her home complained of such, no particular attention had been paid it. She stayed in bed until late in the afternoon. In the meantime her father went over to the west side, presumably to call on Mrs. Pruitt. It was late when he returned, about eleven o'clock, that night.

Orlean retired again about ten, and had fallen into a troubled sleep. She felt the same as she did the night she had returned from Mrs. Merley's, and she could not account for the strange nausea that lingered over her.

When N.J. McCarthy returned, he went to the kitchen for a drink of water, after which, he must return through the room in which his daughter, Orlean, lay sleeping. As he had done on that occasion two years before, he had paused at the foot of the bed to observe his sleeping daughter. How long he stood thus, he never knew, but after a time he became conscious of that strange sensation that had come over him on the memorable night before. He tried to throw off the uncanny feeling, but it seemed to hang on like grim death. And as he stood enmeshed in its sinister thraldom, he thought he again saw her rise and point an accusing finger at him. Out of it all he was sure he heard again her voice in all its agony as it had spoken that other night. But tonight the accusation was more severe.

CHAPTER XIX

From a painting by W.M. Farrow.

HE TRIED TO THROW OFF THE UNCANNY FEELING, BUT IT SEEMED TO HANG ON LIKE GRIM DEATH. AND AS HE STOOD ENMESHED IN ITS SINISTER THRALDOM, HE THOUGHT HE SAW HER RISE AND POINT AN ACCUSING FINGER AT HIM.