The jury were seated round the coroner at the upper end of the room. Mr. Pergament, the solicitor, stood at the end of the table ready to put any questions he might desire to have answered by the witnesses. On the right of the coroner, a little way from the jury, sat Maurice Clissold, with a constable at his side. Nearly opposite him, and next to the lawyer, stood the new master of Penwyn Manor, ready to prompt a question if he saw his solicitor at fault. Churchill and Mr. Pergament had gone into the case thoroughly together, with the Spinnersbury detectives and the local constabulary, and had their facts pretty well in hand. The jury answered to their names, and the inquiry began, Mr. Pergament interrogating, the coroner taking notes of the evidence. Mr. Elgood was one of the first witnesses sworn. 'I believe you were in the company of the deceased on the night, or rather morning, of the murder?' said the coroner. 'Yes, he supped at my lodging on that night.' 'Alone with you?' 'No. Mr. Dempson and his wife, and my daughter were of the party.' 'At what hour did Mr. Penwyn leave you?' The actor's countenance assumed a look of perplexity. 'It was half-past twelve before we sat down to supper,' he said, 'but I can't exactly say how long we sat afterwards. We smoked a few cigars, and, to be candid, were somewhat convivial. I haven't any clear idea as to the time; my daughter may know.' 'Why your daughter, and not you?' 'She let him out through the shop when he went away. Our apartments are respectable but humble, over a chandler's.' 'And your daughter was more temperate than you, and may have some idea as to the time? We'll ask her the question presently. Do you know if Mr. Penwyn had any considerable sum of money about him at the time he left you?' 'I don't know. He had entertained us handsomely at the "Waterfowl" on the previous night, and he stood a carriage and any quantity of champagne to the races that day, but I did not see him pay away any money except for the standing-place for his carnage.' 'Did you see him receive any money on the racecourse?' 'No.' 'Was he with you all day?' 'From twelve o'clock till half-past six in the evening.' 'And in that time you had no knowledge of his winning or receiving any sum of money?' 'No.' 'Do you know of his being associated with disreputable people of any kind—betting men, for instance?' 'I know next to nothing of his associations. There was an old gipsy woman who pretended to tell his fortune by the river side the day before the races, when he and the rest of us happened to be walking together. He gave her money then, and he gave her money on the race day, when she was hanging about the carriage, begging for drink.' Churchill Penwyn, who had been looking at the ground, in a listening attitude hitherto, raised his eyes at this juncture, half in interrogation, half in surprise. 'Is that all you know about the deceased?' continued Mr. Pergament.